


In Our Own Ranks

by Idicted



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Action/Adventure, Gen, Hurt Spock (Star Trek), Hurt!Spock, Illnesses, Romulans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-10 11:27:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 21,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15290535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Idicted/pseuds/Idicted
Summary: Spock is sent on an undercover mission to Romulus, while his friends are led to believe he has defected. However, Kirk and McCoy soon understand that they are all pawns in a much bigger, much more sinister plan. As the lines between enemies and allies become blurred, they must fight to preserve both Spock's life and intergalactic peace.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Now complete!

“The Vulcan will not survive, of course. But it is a brilliant plan, Ted.”

 

Admiral Edward Ringer smiled at the compliment. The man sitting across from him was not only his equal in rank, he was also equally smart and – Ringer had been pleased to discover – shared his political views. Bob Truger was not an easy man to impress, so the fact that he had expressed admiration for the plan Ringer had just shared with him was not just encouraging, it was flattering.

 

“Spock is the best man for the job - the _only_ man. We need to be careful not to anger the Vulcans, but once it’s all over, we’ll make sure there’s no threat to Vulcan and Spock is celebrated as a martyr. And even if we lose Vulcan as a member of the Federation, we will have gained so much strength that it won’t even matter.”

 

Truger nodded thoughtfully. “Naturally, Spock mustn’t know what this mission is really about.”

 

“Naturally,” Ringer agreed. “ _No one_ can find out about this. That’s why I came to you directly. You and I together, we can pull this off.”

 

“Have you thought about going through the official channels with this?” Admiral Truger poured a generous amount of blue liquid from the bottle on the table first into his companion’s glass, then into his own. _Romulan Ale_ , he thought, _how fitting_.

 

“Sure, Bob. But I dismissed it. We’ll never get the political support for this. They will call us radicals, extremists. But once it’s done, it’s done and they will thank us. We will be heroes, Bob.” Ringer smiled. “So,” he asked, raising his glass, “can I count on you?”

 

“Absolutely, Ted, anything you need.”

 

“Then here’s to the future of the Federation.”

 

“The future of the Federation.”

 

 


	2. Inception

 

Spock looked around the room in his guest quarters on Tellar and, satisfied that he had packed all of his possessions into the Starfleet standard issue two-day bag, determined that the shuttle taking him to the Enterprise would depart in exactly 54.86 minutes.

 

The New Life Conference had been a stimulating experience and his paper on “Organism Beta-P-19” – or as McCoy, his co-author, liked to call it “The giant space amoeba” – had been well received. Spock knew this would please McCoy, even though his answer to Spock’s question whether the doctor would like to speak at the conference had been “I’m a doctor, not a lecturer.” Spock, however, suspected that the doctor’s refusal was in reality due to the fact that the conference happened to fall on the weekend of Chief Engineer Scott’s birthday and that McCoy did not wish to miss Scott’s party, during which large quantities of alcohol were traditionally consumed.

 

Spock, on the other hand, had been glad to have an excuse not to attend a gathering of inebriated bridge and engineering crew members. Nevertheless, he would be observing the human custom of giving a birthday gift: tucked away safely in his bag was a bottle of what looked like, and had the taste and intoxicating effects of, Scotch Whisky, though without any of the debilitating effects commonly referred to by humans as a ‘hangover’. It was in fact not alcohol, but a secretion of an organism presented at the conference by another participant. During a networking event Spock had talked the surprised scientist into providing him with a generous sample of the liquid, which, as Spock had personally made sure, was perfectly safe for consumption by humanoids.

 

Now Spock was about to use the remaining time before the departure of his shuttle to finalize the written version of his and McCoy’s paper for publication in the conference journal when his quarters’ electronic door chime announced the presence of a visitor. Intrigued, for most conference participants had already departed earlier in the day, Spock turned towards the door.

 

“Come.”

 

The doors slid open and revealed a man in his fifties, tanned with a full head of hair, which began to slightly grey at the sides.

 

Spock’s left eyebrow rose but he got up to greet the man politely. “Admiral Ringer. This is an unexpected honour. I did not realize you were among the conference participants.”

 

Ringer stepped into the room, the doors shutting behind him.

 

“I don’t do conferences, Commander. I’m here to speak to you. And let’s do away with calling me ‘Admiral’. As you can see”, he said, pointing to his nondescript grey outfit, not displaying any insignia of his rank, “I am trying not to make my presence known.”

 

Spock’s right eyebrow joined the left one.

 

“Computer, engage privacy lock.” Admiral Ringer said smoothly.

 

“Privacy lock engaged.”

 

“Now, Commander Spock. Listen carefully.”

 

 


	3. Premonition

_Personal log, star date 4728.5. We are on our way to Starbase 23 for a high-level meeting with Admiral Ringer. Only myself and Commander Spock are to beam down to the base. It is highly unusual for an Admiral to personally travel to a Starbase to deliver new orders, especially a Starbase so close to the Neutral Zone. I have a sinking feeling that this meeting will take us on another long mission, even though the crew is exhausted and to be honest, so am I. McCoy keeps badgering me to order shore leave but whatever the Admiral says he wants has priority._

 

***

 

Spock was standing in the transporter room, waiting for Kirk. They were do beam down at 0800 hours, in 4.8 minutes. Spock allowed his mind to drift back to the conversation he had had with Admiral Ringer 3.4 months ago. “Under no circumstances”, the Admiral had said, “are you to change your behaviour or demeanour in any way that would arouse Kirk’s suspicion.” However, as it turned out, it had not been the captain Spock needed to worry about, it was McCoy. Two days after his return from the New Life Conference, the doctor had cornered him on his way back from Mr Scott’s quarters, to whom Spock had just presented the Whisky substitute.

 

“What is going on with you, Spock?”

 

“I beg your pardon, Doctor?”

 

“You’ve been avoiding me ever since you came back to the conference. What the hell happened? Did you screw up the presentation of the paper? Did they hate it? Are they not gonna publish it?”

 

“Doctor, I assure you, I did not ‘screw up’ the presentation. The paper was very well received and will be published next month.”

 

“That’s great news, Spock. You, now, us emotional humans, we need some sort of affirmation for our work once in a while. So why the hell wouldn’t you tell me?”

 

“I apologise, Doctor. I have simply been engrossed in my duties ever since my return.”

 

“Oh, bullshit, Spock. In the past, whenever you came back from a conference, you could not wait to bore me with all the new stuff you’d learned. So, what’s different this time?”

 

“Has it occurred to you, doctor,” Spock had commented with a raised eyebrow, “that your tendency to be bored by my syntheses of scientific findings might have caused me to seek out a more appreciative audience in your stead? Now, if you will excuse me, I am needed in the labs.”

 

And with that, Spock had left, chiding himself for attempting to avoid McCoy. He had been trying to be inconspicuous but clearly achieved exactly the opposite effect.

 

Two weeks later, McCoy had confronted him again, specifically coming to his quarters to speak to him, even more angry this time.

 

“Ever since you came back from that conference, I hardly ever see you anymore.” McCoy had jumped right into the topic. “ _And_ you don’t come to the mess, no chess with Jim, no playing the lute with Uhura.”

 

Spock raised an eyebrow. “I see you have made your enquiries, doctor.”

 

“Well, it’s my job as ship’s physician to notice if one of the crew starts acting odd. And you’re acting damn odd, Spock, even for a green-blooded Vulcan. So, for the last time, tell me what is going on with you or I will have to drag you in for a physical.”

 

“I can only reiterate, Doctor, that nothing ‘going on’. Now, allow me to return to my duties and I suggest you do the same, instead of spying on senior crew members.”

 

He had left the doctor standing in his quarters, swearing colourfully, and had walked towards the arboretum and then climbed a Jeffry’s tube up to communications. The Doctor was very perceptive indeed; he would have to be more careful in the future.

 

***

 

As Kirk stepped out of the turbo lift on his way to the transporter room, Doctor McCoy appeared from around a corner and joined Kirk on his way. “So, Jim. Any chance for some R+R for the crew while we’re docked at the Starbase?"

 

Kirk gave the doctor a sour look. “We’ve been through this, Bones. I don’t know what our orders will be and as long as I don’t know, I can’t promise anything.

 

“The crew needs rest, Jim. They’re all on edge; even your first officer is acting crazy.”

 

Now Kirk’s look turned into amusement. “I’m sure Spock would beg to differ, doctor.”

 

“I’m telling you, Jim. He’s been strangely withdrawn lately. I think there’s something bothering him. I keep trying to talk to him but he just shuts me out. The other day I saw him in the mess and I hadn’t seen him there in ages, so I went up to him and said ‘What’s up, Spock?’ and you know what he answered?”

 

Jim shook his head, a smile playing at his lips.

 

“He said,” McCoy continued incredulously, “‘up, doctor, is an word in the English language that can be used as an adverb, preposition, adjective, noun or verb, though its most common use is to indicate a direction, towards a higher place or position.’ And then he just left.”

 

Kirk grinned. “Sounds like pretty normal Spock to me, Bones.”

 

“And yesterday,” McCoy insisted, “I ran into him at in the communications department. I go there once in a while for some peace and quiet, you know it’s usually pretty deserted. And when I ask Spock how come he is up there, ruining my quiet time, he tells me to, and I quote, ‘Mind your own business, doctor’, turns around and leaves. Now what do you make of that, Jim?”

 

Kirk runs a hand over his face. “Look, Bones, I don’t have time to comment on every one of your squabbles. But if you really think there is more to this than your usual bickering, we’ll talk about it once I’m back from the base, ok?”

 

They had reached the door of the transporter room. Inside, Spock was already waiting.

 

“Captain, doctor.” Spock walked up the steps of the transporter platform, Kirk following.

 

“See you later, Bones. Mr Scott, energize.”

 

McCoy’s half angry, half concerned face dissolved before them and they materialized in front of not one, but two Admirals.

 

 


	4. Confirmation

 “When we meet again, Commander Spock,” Ringer had said on that fateful day just a little over three months ago, “it will be in the company of Admiral Truger and you will be ready for what’s to come.”

 

But Spock was not ready. He was glad that McCoy had not beamed down with them, for the perceptive doctor would surely have detected something akin to trepidation in Spock’s usually unreadable features.

 

***

 

“Admiral Ringer, Admiral Truger.” Kirk nodded politely. “I must confess I am surprised to see you out here. I was not aware that Admiral Truger would be joining us. I’m curious as to what’s going on.”

 

 _Ringer is Head of Starfleet Operations, Truger is Head of Intelligence_ , Kirk reminded himself, wondering what the new orders could possibly entail for those two men to show up together out here in the middle of nowhere.

 

“Captain Kirk, Commander Spock. Please follow us to the briefing room,” came Truger’s reply.

 

“Admirals,” Spock acknowledged, eyeing Jim from the side, wondering if what was about to happen would forever ruin the relationship he had established with this particular human and with all the others aboard the Enterprise he had come to think of friends.

 

***

 

The meeting with the two Admirals had lasted over two hours. Ringer had done most of the talking, explaining that all photon torpedoes aboard the Enterprise would be replaced that same day with a new model, ten times more powerful, as Ringer had said, a “new super weapon.” He had gone into the details of the new technology (Kirk had switched off, trusting Spock to understand the specifics and to ask any relevant questions), but had not said anything about why or any new orders in connection with this. After two hours, Ringer had addressed Spock, asking him to immediately beam back to the ship and oversee the loading of the new torpedoes and had emphasized that this was a top secret operation, meaning it must be presented to the rest of the crew as a standard refit. Kirk had stayed behind.

 

The moment Spock had dematerialized outside the briefing room, Truger began to speak.

 

“Captain Kirk, I suggest we continue with the session. We needed to speak to you alone, this is a highly sensitive matter.”

 

 _Finally, they’re gonna get to the point_ , Kirk thought. Aloud he said: “By all means, Admiral. I’m all ears.”

 

“I am afraid, Captain, a Romulan attack on the Enterprise is imminent.”

 

“A Romulan attack? But why now, and why on the Enterprise…?”

 

“Captain, let me finish. Unfortunately, the bad news do not stop there. As to why we expect the attack to happen at any moment, it is because the Romulans believe the Enterprise to be vulnerable. As to the question why they believe this: you have a Romulan spy on board. He has been feeding information on the Enterprise’s security system to the Romulans for a good three months.”

 

Kirk’s mouth opened, closed, then opened again and closed again without him being able to utter a single word. A spy? Among his crew? _Impossible_. He stood up, beginning to pace the room.

 

“H-how, can you be sure?” he asked, and then, the dreaded question, the question that would change life on the Enterprise forever: “Who?”

 

Eyeing him regretfully, or so Kirk thought, the Head of Starfleet Intelligence let out a sigh and replied: “We should have definitive confirmation of the spy’s identity within the hour, but, Jim, I will not torture you and tell you outright. It’s your First Officer. It’s Spock.”

 

Kirk’s knees threatened to give out under him. His stomach seemed to drop into a worm hole, his head reeled. _Spock. No, impossible. Not Spock. Anyone but Spock_.

 

Pulling himself together, he prepared to defend his First Officer, his friend, _best_ friend.

 

“This is a serious accusation, Admiral. I absolutely refuse to believe that Spock would ever do anything to harm the Enterprise and her crew. What is your proof?” He was positively glaring at Truger.

 

“Captain, sit down and I will explain.”

 

Reluctantly, Kirk sat down.

 

“We began monitoring the Enterprise’s communications shortly after Commander Spock’s return from the New Life conference. An agent told us of a meeting that took place on Tellar between a Romulan informant and Mr Spock. Long story short, Jim, we have intercepted several coded messages, piggybacking on perfectly normal standard communications, which we assume have been intercepted by the Romulans. The code was very elaborate, difficult to decipher, Commander Spock is one of the few individuals aboard the Enterprise capable of sending such encoded messages.”

 

“That doesn’t proof he’s guilty!” Kirk interjected. “What did the coded messages say, anyway?”

 

“The ones we were able to decode gave details of the Enterprise’s weapons systems, layout, crew… and we suspect that even the shield codes may have been sent, though we cannot be sure.”

 

“Aha! You’re not sure. So, how do you intend to give me undeniable proof that my First Officer is a Romulan spy if you’re not sure?” Kirk was practically shouting.

 

“Control yourself, Captain,” Ringer warned, but Truger continued calmly:

 

“This is why we have staged this whole torpedo story, Captain. Only Commander Spock and yourself know of the supposed new super torpedoes. This has two purposes, actually. One, to catch your First Officer in the act. All communications leaving the Enterprise will be closely monitored. We expect him to reveal this new weapons technology to the Romulans, which, purpose two, we expect will cause them to delay or call off their attack. The torpedoes that are being loaded onto your ship now are actually perfectly normal, standard photon torpedoes. We don’t have a new super weapon.”

 

Kirk sat stunned. _So now I’m hoping for a Romulan attack on the Enterprise just to prove Spock’s innocence_ , he thought, almost laughing out loud at the absurdity of the situation.

 

“I have to get back to the ship,” Kirk said aloud, “I must speak with Spock, I am sure this is all a huge misunderstanding.”

 

He got up and walked to the door, only to be met with a Starfleet HQ security detail outside.

 

“Sorry, Captain,” Admiral Ringer said (was that menace in his voice?), “but you will do no such thing. Wait here, please.” 

 

Kirk flopped back into his seat. The next 45 minutes or so were excruciating. Not a word was spoken in the room. Kirk thought back to the conversation he’d had with McCoy this morning about Spock. No it could not be true. It simply could not.

 

Finally, one of the Admirals’ entourage came in, whispering something in Truger’s ear.

 

Truger nodded. “We got it, Jim. We got _him_.”

 

 


	5. Confession

McCoy poured himself his third glass of Saurian brandy for the night. He emptied it in one drain, willing himself to forget the day’s events.

 

He had asked the transporter technician to page him to the transporter room once Jim called in to be beamed up. McCoy had been eager to continue the conversation the had begun in the morning, but when the Captain materialized, McCoy thought better of it. Kirk was wearing a grim expression and had not one, but two Admirals and a Starfleet HQ security detail in tow.

 

“What in the name of…” McCoy had looked on as the Captain punched the intercom button on the transporter console with more force than necessary.

 

“Kirk to Spock.”

 

“Spock here, Captain,” came the familiar timbre over the intercom. For a split second Kirk’s face displayed all kinds of emotion: anger, sadness, fear. Then the Command mask was back in place.

 

“Commander Spock, meet me in the briefing room, on the double, Kirk out.” McCoy had tagged along, as no one seemed to object to his presence but had not dared speak to Jim, who was walking towards the briefing room like a man on his way to the gallows. 

 

In the briefing room, Spock was standing up straight, hands behind his back. Beneath the Vulcan mask, firmly in place, perhaps more firmly than ever, McCoy detected defeat, regret and - could it be? - sadness.

 

Kirk, McCoy noticed, did not even look at Spock but at a spot on the wall, just behind the tip of his right ear.

 

“Commander Spock”, Kirk began, “You are hereby placed under arrest and charged with high treason. You are accused of divulging military secrets to the Romulans and colluding with the enemy to orchestrate an attack on the Federation. Security,” Kirk’s voice trembled, but clearing his throat he caught himself and said firmly: “Security, take Commander Spock to the brig.”

 

The Starfleet HQ security detail stepped forward, but so did McCoy, placing himself between them and Spock.

 

“Now wait just a damn minute, Jim. What the hell is going on here? Treason? The brig? Spock?” he looked helplessly from one of his friends to the other. “Spock, say something!”

 

“Doctor McCoy, you will step away from the Commander immediately.” Ringer’s voice was cold. 

 

“The hell I will.” McCoy, defiantly stepped closer to Spock. “I demand to know what is going on. Jim, you know as well as I do that Spock would never, _could_ never commit treason. He loves the regulations too damn much. Right, Spock?” And when Spock merely looked at the ground, McCoy repeated: “Right?” 

 

“We have a traitor in our own ranks,” Admiral Ringer announced. “The captain has reviewed the evidence against the Commander and has given a direct order for him to be taken to the brig. Doctor, you’re interfering with the course of justice,” Ringer said icily.

 

At the word “traitor” Spock had finally met McCoy’s gaze and the doctor was shocked by the open despair he saw in the Vulcan’s face. Then, his features hardened into a mask of Vulcan arrogance and he replied: “The Admiral is correct, doctor. I have been in communication with the Romulans for 3.26 months. I fully admit to the charged brought against me by Captain Kirk and will submit to any punishment which is deemed suitable.”

 

At Spock’s confession, McCoy saw all colour drain from Jim’s face. McCoy himself, however, felt the blood rushing to his head, anger seeking an outlet.

 

“Spock, you ice-cold son of a bitch. How can you just stand there and admit that you have betrayed all that was supposed to be dear to you? The Enterprise, your home, your friends? Hell, I thought we were friends, Spock. I thought Jim was your friend. Your _best_ friend. Is it really true then? You have no emotions after all, so you cannot understand simple concepts such as loyalty and trust? How could you be so damn cold, making a place for yourselves in our lives, in our hearts and then you breezily admit to having switched sides to the Romulans? The _Romulans_ , Spock? What is this about, some sort of blood-is-thicker-than-water-bullshit? Do you think they are your brothers or something? We were your brothers, we were your family. But you were always a little bit too grand to belong to a family like ours, weren’t you? The superior Vulcan intellect, the superior Vulcan strength. Well, I hope it serves you well, wherever you’re going now. I certainly hope I never ever have to speak to you again.” 

 

And so McCoy had stormed out of the room. A couple of hours later, he had tried to find Jim at his quarters, but the Captain had not opened the door. 

 

So McCoy drank alone. After his fourth glass of brandy, he began to sob; after the sixth he finally fell asleep at his desk. 

 

***

 

Alone in the brig, Spock took a deep breath. He had tried to achieve a state of meditation for the past hour, but had been unable to do so. His court-martial was scheduled for 1100 hours tomorrow. It was, as Doctor McCoy might have has said, ‘not his first rodeo’. This was also not lost on Ringer, who in their very first conversation had told him that since Spock had been court-martialled before, it should not be too hard for him to “act the part.” When Spock had objected, not only to the Court-Martial, to the whole plan in fact, asking that at least the Captain be told of it, Spock had tried with little hope a phrase often used, perhaps overused, on humans: “Vulcans do not lie,” looking Ringer in the eyes.

 

“And yet you just did, Mr Spock,” Ringer had replied mirthfully. “Come now, we both know you are perfectly able of deception. I’m thinking of Talos IV.”

 

Spock was now also thinking of Talos IV. He had deceived Jim, McCoy, the crew; but it had been for a good cause. And so was this mission, he told himself. But was this really the same? No. What he had done on Talos IV, he had done for a friend. This, he was doing because the Admiral had ordered him to. For the good of the Federation, perhaps. But if his friendship with Jim could withstand another betrayal, Spock was not so sure. As for the doctor, after the angry tirade earlier in the day, Spock was almost certain that he had lost McCoy’s friendship for good.

 

 


	6. Omission

Jim lay awake in his quarters. He had not slept at all that night and now it was time to get up for the Alpha shift. When he entered the bridge, the other bridge officers were already at their posts – only the science station lay deserted. 

 

“Captain?” Uhura’s look was searching, pleading. But he only held up his hand, slumping into the Captain’s chair. Three hours till the court-martial.

 

*** 

  

Ted Ringer smiled at his reflection in the mirror on the wall of his guest quarters aboard the Enterprise. His plan was going swimmingly. The court-martial had not taken long, with Spock pleading guilty to all charges as agreed. Also as agreed, a shuttle would take Spock to serve his sentence, life imprisonment on the penal colony Poena II, the next day. Only he, Admiral Truger and Commander – no, not Commander, just _Mr_ Spock, he reminded himself, chuckling – knew that the shuttle would never make it to Poena II. 

 

Now, he needed to talk to the ship’s Chief Medical Officer. This McCoy fellow was a real hothead. If he played his cards right, the next part of the plan would be easier to implement than he had dared to dream.

 

***

 

McCoy was sitting at the desk in his office. He was staring at the empty bottle of Saurian brandy on his desk. He should take something for the explosive headache it had given him, but he did not wish to get up, see anyone, speak to anyone. 

 

He had not attended the court-martial, but when Nurse Chapel had burst into his office crying, she had relayed the result between sobs. _Life imprisonment on Poena II_. McCoy swallowed hard. How had everything gone to shit within the space of a little over 24 hours? Spock would leave the Enterprise for the last time at 0900 hours tomorrow morning. Should he go to the brig and say his goodbyes? After his outburst yesterday, he thought he had said everything he would ever need to say to the Vulcan. But now it seemed that so much had been left unsaid. Despite what Spock had done, McCoy realized, he was still his friend. He wanted to ask him why. Why had he done this? It simply made no sense. He wanted to tell him good luck, but that seemed the wrong thing to tell someone who was being sent to Poena II. No. McCoy would not go see the Vulcan. This was a cowardly choice and he knew it but he simply could not bear Spock calmly telling him all the ‘logical’ reasons for what he’d done. He simply could not.

 

The door chime brought him out of his reverie. McCoy sighed. “Come.”

 

Admiral Ringer entered the office. McCoy did not greet him, nor did he make any effort to get up. He was probably here to berate him about yesterday. First defending Spock, then his outburst, now this, bordering on insubordination. McCoy didn’t care. _Have me court-martialled too_ , he thought, _I don’t even care anymore_.

 

But with a look at the empty bottle on McCoy’s desk the Admiral simply said: “Doctor McCoy, I can see you are busy, so I will get straight to the point. As I’m sure you are aware, Mr Spock will leave for Poena II first thing tomorrow morning.” 

 

McCoy closed his eyes.

 

“It is Starfleet protocol for a prisoner who is to be sent to a penal colonies to be vaccinated against certain diseases, in order to prevent mass outbreaks. Rigelian flu (McCoy shuddered), Dilistrezia (McCoy’s heart began to pound) and for species with copper-based blood, Carlugian fever, of course (McCoy thought he might be sick any minute).”

 

When McCoy didn’t respond, Ringer continued: “I appreciate that this is a difficult situation for you. For all the crew in fact, including the medical personnel. After all,” he said sympathetically, “you considered the prisoner a friend.”

 

McCoy still did not respond.

 

“Anyway, Doctor, since you were Mr Spock’s primary physician, I thought I should let you know about the vaccinations. However, there is no need for you or your staff to administer them. We can have that taken care of by the Starbase’s medical personnel.”

 

McCoy felt a wave of relief wash over him, followed by a wave of nausea and shame.

 

“Doctor.”

 

“Yes, Admiral”, McCoy mumbled, “Yes, thank you, I’m sure that will be fine.”

 

When Ringer had left, McCoy took another bottle of brandy from a wall cabinet and sat down on the floor, not bothering to use a glass this time. So he would not even do that for Spock. One last medical procedure to make sure he had the best possible chance at Poena II. 

 

 _The Federation may have done away with the death penalty de jure_ , he thought, _but de facto, the penal colonies are just that. A death sentence_. He took a swig from the bottle.

 

 


	7. Deception

Spock sat alone in the back of the shuttle, his hands cuffed behind his back, a Starfleet HQ guard on either of his sides and a pilot and co-pilot in the seats at the front. He had been taken down to Starbase 23 early that morning. Neither Kirk, nor McCoy had come to see him before he left the Enterprise; he had not really expected them to. Only Lieutenant Uhrura has briefly stopped by the brig. She had had tears in her eyes and mumbled “Goodbye, Mr Spock.” 

 

The only other visitor had been a nurse, not from the Enterprise but from the Starbase. She had arrived late last night and had given him three vaccines, which had made him feel dizzy. In fact, his head was still swimming but he was not sure whether this was due to the medication or the thoughts floating around in his mind.

 

***

 

Kirk sat in the briefing room, waiting for Admiral Ringer who had asked him there. Admiral Truger had left the Enterprise and departed from Starbase 23 bound for Earth shortly after the conclusion of the court-martial, but Ringer was still here. Five hours after Kirk’s former First Officer and best friend had left the Enterprise ( _5.47 hours, as Spock would point out_ , Kirk thought sadly) without Kirk having the courage to say goodbye, the captain of the Enterprise had not had time to come to terms with what had happened, when the Admiral entered the briefing room and delivered the second set of unbearable news within the space of 72 hours.

 

“Admiral Truger just contacted me on a private channel, Captain”, Ringer began. “The shuttle carrying Spock has been attacked by the Romulans. The pilot, co-pilot and security guards are dead. There is no trace of Spock.”

 

Kirk stared at him.

 

“We believe,” the Admiral stated sourly, “the Romulans have freed Spock and taken him to Roumulus.”

 

“So, it is true,” Kirk mumbled in disbelief. “It is actually true. Admiral, I know we had all the evidence at the court-martial, but I can’t – I could not make myself believe that Spock was really colluding with the Romulans. And now, they have rescued him. Rescued him from a punishment I wished against all reasons he’d be able to escape from. But now that he has, all I can think of is that this proves his guilt.”

 

“Captain… Jim.” Admiral Ringer walked over to Kirk and put a hand on his shoulder. “We have no confirmation as yet that Spock was brought to Romulus, but Admiral Truger’s people are working hard trying to find out. In the meantime, Captain, I will stay on the Enterprise just a little while longer. This is a delicate situation and I want to make sure it is handled correctly.”

 

Kirk just nodded. He needed to talk to McCoy.

 

***

 

Spock awoke to a splitting headache. He was lying on a cold, hard stone floor in a cell with minimal lighting and a sizzling force field blocking the entrance. His hands were still bound by the Federation security handcuffs. He sat up, his vision blurring. Slowly, his memories returned. Romulans beaming into the shuttle, shooting first the co-pilot, then the security guards and finally the pilot, then a Romulan raising his disruptor rifle above Spock’s head, darkness. 

 

This was not good. He was supposed to win the trust of the Romulan Imperial Senate, not be locked up in a cell. Through the daze in his head, he remembered the Admiral’s instructions:

 

“Your mission is to convince the Praetor that you are tired of the human-dominated Federation and want to create an alliance between Roumulus and Vulcan. I hereby authorize you to divulge further military secrets, especially about the Enterprise, as you see fit. Once the Praetor trusts you, he will let you move about freely and you will establish contact with high-ranking dissenters who want to overthrow the current government. Look for a man who goes by the name of Verlek. Remember, Commander, if you succeed, this can bring peace to the Federation. These dissenters, once in power, are willing to sign a peace treaty with the Federation. If you fail in your mission, however, you will bring death and destruction on the Federation. Our intelligence tells us that the current Praetor is getting ready for war. And he seems to have a personal vendetta against the Enterprise and her captain. Kirk is your friend, isn’t he, Commander? And so is the ship’s doctor, no? You must be prepared to endure, Commander, for the sake of the lives aboard this ship and the lives of millions of others across the Federation.”

 

When Spock looked up, he got a first glimpse of what he would have to endure: a sneering Romulan with a whip and iron in one hand, and a club in the other, hovered outside the force field protecting the door to Spock’s cell. He deactivated it and let himself in.

 

***

 

Kirk found McCoy in his office. Eyes bloodshot, deep shadows under his eyes and a half-empty empty bottle next to him on the floor.

 

“You look about as good as I feel.” Kirk slumped down next to his friend tiredly. “Something’s happened.”

 

McCoy suddenly found he had to laugh uncontrollably, till the tears came. When he had finished he simply said: “Hit me,” and Kirk told him about the shuttle incident and that Truger’s people had in the meantime confirmed his worst fears: Spock was on Romulus.

 

They sat in silence for a while. When Kirk spoke again, he sounded defeated. “Why didn’t we see it coming, Bones? Why didn’t we stop him? How did we let this get so far?”

 

“I knew something was up, Jim. I told you, remember? But this, _this_? No, we could not have seen this coming. I just wanna know why. Why, Spock? _Why_?”

 

***

 

When the whip dug into his flesh, Spock had to remind himself why he was doing this. Peace. A possibility of peace with the Romulan Empire. And, though the world did not know it, he was still a Starfleet officer and under orders. 

 

When the whip was replaced with the club, he reminded himself that he was doing this for the Enterprise and her crew. And when his tormentor untied his hands only to press the scolding hot iron into his palms, Spock thought only of Leonard and Jim. He was doing this to protect Leonard and Jim.

 

“Are you a double-agent?” the Romulan screamed at him, over and over again, for hours on end.

 

“I am not,” Spock replied as calmly as he could, realizing that what Admiral Ringer had said about him was true. He was perfectly capable of deception. He was not a double-agent, he was only working for one side, he always would. The Federation, the Enterprise, Leonard and Jim.

 

 


	8. Contagion

The next morning, Spock awoke with a start as he was kicked in the side by a heavy boot. He wanted to move but found it took and enormous effort to do so. The guard – _Tulak_ , Spock remembered – was shouting at him to get up.

 

“The Praetor is waiting for you,” he informed him, kicking him a second time.

 

Spock rolled over onto his side and slowly staggered to his feet. He was still wearing the Starfleet issue prisoner jumpsuit, which was covered in blood – evidence of Tulak’s ministrations the day before. Tulak did not let Spock out of his sight but did not touch him. Clearly, Spock thought, he had new orders. Spock’s whole body ached, some of the wounds still oozing green blood. In addition, Spock had spent the night in his cell on the cold hard floor and had developed a cough. He kept coughing up blood, probably thanks to one of Tulak’s well-aimed blows. He was feeling extremely weak and briefly wondered how this was possible. Even with the treatment he had received last night, his body should not be trembling as it currently was. If he had the opportunity later, he would go into a healing trance. For now, he had to concentrate on his mission.  

 

***

 

Spock could not remember ever having felt more exhausted. It had been a short walk to the Imperial Senate Chamber - at the back of his mind he noticed with interest that he had been held in the cellars below the Hall of State. Spock, with Tulak hovering behind him, was now waiting to be received by the Praetor and the Senate members. 

 

He knew he needed to be convincing, to play the part of a defector who now wished to serve the Romulan Empire, but at the moment, he felt so dizzy and ill, he could barely hold himself upright. 

 

The cough had become more persistent, and as the Senate Chamber’s doors opened, Tulak pushing him unceremoniously into the middle of the room, Spock was fighting to breathe between coughs. He found himself in the undignified position of having to wipe his face with his sleeve as blood expelled by the coughing was running down his chin. Mustering all his strength and as much dignity as possible, Spock managed to reduce the cough to a wheeze. He straightened his back and looked squarely into the Praetor’s eyes, who was standing before him. 

 

“Kneel!” The Praetor commanded.

 

Spock complied. Both in order to play along and because his knees were about the give out under him anyway.

 

“So, _Commander_ Spock.” At the mention of his rank, the Senate members chuckled softly. “We have received some very useful intelligence from you. You wish to serve the Romulan Empire?” 

 

Spock opened his mouth to answer but all that came out was coughing. And more blood.

 

“You see” the Praetor continued unperturbed, “I can’t quite believe it. A Starfleet Commander, suddenly deciding to share military secrets. Not that they were not helpful. On the contrary. Next time we engage the Enterprise, we’ll know exactly were to hit her.”

 

Spock vision began to swim.

 

“Well, Spock of Vulcan. You will of course be allowed to prove your loyalty. Tulak tells me his little interrogation has not yielded anything interesting so far. But whatever truly brings you here, Tulak will be sure to find out. Now get up and get out.”

 

Spock did not move.

 

“I said” the Praetor whispered menacingly, “get up.”

 

Spock struggled to get to his feet; his whole body was shaking.

 

The Praetor marched up to him and almost gently took Spock’s chin into his hand, turning his face up to meet the Praetor’s gaze. 

 

“You cannot serve the Romulan Empire, Vulcan half-breed. Look at you, you are weak. After only one session with Tulak you are crawling around like a dog. Vulcan strength, what a joke.”

 

It was true, Spock thought, shaking with another coughing fit. Why was he so weak? The torture session had been bad, but he should not be feeling its effects so strongly. What was happening to him?

 

The Praetor raised his hand and with one heavy blow, Spock’s world went dark. The last thing he was aware of was the jeering and whistling of the Senate members.

 

*** 

 

Spock awoke from a bucket of cold water being emptied out over him. He was once again lying on the floor of his cell. Tulak stood over him, the already familiar whip, club and iron lined up neatly behind him. 

 

“Good morning, Mr Spy.” Tulak grinned. 

 

So it was morning. This meant, Spock thought, he had been out for approximately 15 hours. He tried to sit up but found his body was too stiff and sore to move. He managed to turn his head to the side to cough, emitting a large quantity of fresh blood.

 

Spock willed himself to endure, but this time he cried out in pain as the whip split his lip and as the club collided with his collarbone, shattering it. Tulak had removed Spock’s boots and was about to press the hot iron into the sole of his left foot. Spock closed his eyes and braced himself for the pain when suddenly he heard the iron clatter to the floor. Next to it lay Tulak, his body wrecked by a coughing fit. When he turned toward Spock, his lips were covered in green.

 

***

 

On the Enterprise, Kirk was sitting in the captain’s chair on the bridge, signing the refit reports for the torpedoes – Spock had carried out the refit, following protocol to the letter. _And then he went and told the Romulans all about it_ , Kirk thought bitterly. McCoy was hovering next to his chair, feeling a mixture of boredom, frustration and foreboding. Spock had been gone for three days and they were still docked at the Starbase with Admiral Ringer having assured Kirk that once a certain piece of intelligence came through from Admiral Truger, they would be on their way with new orders. 

 

Kirk hated being forced to sit around and wait. He wanted to throw himself into work, to distract himself from the events of the last couple of days. Most of all, he did not want to be reminded of Spock. On the bridge he could not help being reminded, with the science station lying deserted. He had not yet appointed a new Science Officer. Scotty had grudgingly accepted the role of acting First Officer, but had made it very clear that he did not want the promotion permanently. “It does nae fell right, Captain”, was all he had said when Kirk broached the subject with him. No, Kirk agreed, it did not feel right. Nothing about this felt even the least bit right.

 

 _If Spock were here_ , Kirk thought, _he would tell me I’m being illogical and that whether something ‘feels right’ is not reliable data_. He sighed. _I miss him_ , he thought. _In spite of all that he’s done, I miss him_.

 

Kirk was about to suggest to McCoy to leave the bridge (in order to escape the spectre of Spock’s presence) to go to the mess, when the Admiral entered from the turbolift, a triumphant expression on his face. 

 

“Set a course for the Neutral Zone, Captain”, Ringer said, “we have the news we’ve been waiting for.”

 

Kirk briefly wondered if he had heard correctly. “The Neutral Zone?,” he asked, outraged.

 

“Two days ago, you told me the Romulans had designs on my ship and that my First Officer has fed them all the tactical information they need to take her down and now you want me to run into their arms?”

 

“Kirk, I’m not asking you. This is an order.”

 

“With all due respect, Admiral, I cannot authorise a suicide mission. I have my crew to think about.”

 

“You don’t need to authorise anything, Captain Kirk”, the Admiral spat. I outrank you and I order you to set a course for the Neutral Zone. Do it now!”

 

“Will you at least share the orders and mission details with me, Sir, so I can make an informed decision…”

 

“Kirk, I will not tolerate your insubordination any longer.” Ringer’s face was red with anger. “I will share what I see fit when I see fit. I have given you a direct order, now see to it.” 

 

The bridge was deadly silent, the bridge officers tense, following the heated exchange between their Captain and the Admiral. Not even McCoy uttered a word.

 

Kirk stared at Ringer. This didn’t feel right. Hadn’t he just had that exact same thought two minutes ago? Reluctantly he said: “Plot a course for the Neutral Zone, Mr Sulu.”

 

“Plotted and laid in, sir,” Sulu replied hesitantly.

 

“Warp two.”

 

“Warp six,” Ringer interjected. Sulu looked at Kirk for confirmation and the Captain nodded imperceptibly.

 

“Warp six, Sir. ETA two hours, nine minutes.”

 

Kirk slumped back in his chair. He had lost Spock and now he had lost control of his ship. He just hoped he would not lose his crew as well.

 

 


	9. Confrontation

The past two days had been pure chaos in the Romulan capital. First the Praetor had doubled over, coughing up blood; a few hours later the first Senator had followed suit, then another, and another, then the Praetor's personal secretary, two security guards, a cook, and a third Senator. 

A disease was spreading spread rapidly in the Romulan capital and when the Praetor died 32 hours after first collapsing on the floor of the Senate Chamber, then a Senator, and another, the personal secretary and the security guards, the doctors tasked with investigating the outbreak had already determined that the disease was fatal and that there was no easy cure.

The patient would develop a headache, then a cough, and finally stiffness and pain in the whole body. The truly cruel part of the disease, however, was the way in which it finally killed its victim. The reason the coughing was so persistent and always accompanied by bloody discharge was that the virus caused the patient's lungs to bleed heavily on the insides. What eventually finished those unfortunate enough to contract the virus was partly blood loss, but mainly the fact that they drowned in their own blood.

Romulus’s best scientists worked round the clock to develop a vaccine and to find a cure for those already afflicted but so far to no avail. Doctors in overcrowded hospitals were able to delay death by simultaneously giving blood transfusions and draining their patients' lungs, but even with cleaning and reintroducing the drained blood, the hospitals' blood reserves were soon exhausted. Once infected, a patient was highly contagious even before showing symptoms and they discovered that the virus spread through skin contact and bloodily fluids but was also airborne. Due to the highly contagious nature of the virus, many of the doctors and nurses soon became patients themselves. The death count had risen proportionally to the infection rate and was already at over 8,000. 

Quarantine measures were no match for the highly interconnected nature of Romulan society a mass outbreak could not be averted. Public life began to break down with people barricading themselves in, transport and food supply no longer functioning. Governance, too, ceased to function, with the Praetor and most of the Senators dead, armed gangs began to roam the streets, plundering and firing disruptors at anyone who they thought looked infected.

Civilization was fragile. All it had taken to destroy it was a small vial of liquid, disguised as a vaccine.

 

***

 

Ten minutes after the Enterprise arrived in the Neutral Zone, the proximity alert went off and a Bird of Prey decloaked right in front of them. 

 

“Raise shields”, Kirk ordered, just in time, before they were hit by a volley of phaser fire.

 

 _They know exactly where to aim at_ , he though, a chill running down his spine.

 

“Open hailing frequencies,” Ringer shouted from behind Kirk's chair, where he had been standing, unmoving, for the past two hours.

 

 _So now you wanna talk?_ Kirk thought angrily but nodded to Uhura, who said crisply: “Hailing frequencies open, Admiral.”

 

“This is Admiral Ringer aboard the Starship Enterprise. You will cease firing upon us immediately or you will meet the same fate as your comrades on your home world.”

 

 _What is he talking about?_ Kirk wondered as a fresh round of fire hit the ship. 

 

“Shields at 40 percent, Captain.” Sulu shouted.

 

 _That's it_ , Kirk thought, _we're getting out of here._ “Evasive manoeuvres, Mr Sulu and then take us back into Federation space.”

 

“Belay that!” Ringer shouted. “Kirk's I've had it with you, I'm giving the orders here, is that clear?”

 

When no one answered, Ringer, quietly asked, “Crew of the Enterprise, is that clear?” He was met with some mumbled “yessirs”.

 

At that moment, Uhura spoke up: “The Romulans are hailing us, Captain.”

 

“On screen”, Kirk and Ringer said simultaneously.

 

“This is Commander Tala. Enterprise, we have been waiting for this opportunity. Our new comrade and your former First Officer has given us some interesting details regarding your ship. You have violated the Neutral Zone and now we will blow you to bits.”

 

“Before you do that,” Ringer addressed the Romulan, smirking, “you may want to think about what I just said about your home world and how I know this. I know, for example, Commander, that thousands in Romulus’s capital have died in the past days. I also know where the virus that killed them came from. As a matter of fact, this ship's torpedoes carry an even more potent version of the same virus. The torpedoes are designed to cause minor fissures in the outer hull of your ship through which the fluid containing this virus will seep in and spread to every nook and cranny, finally killing you and your crew within two hours. I suggest you run while you can and settle on another planet to preserve the Romulan race.”

 

 _What in the world is going on?_ Kirk wondered, but his thoughts were interrupted when the Romulan ship commenced firing and the Enterprise tilted dangerously. Sparks were flying from consoles on the bridge, the ship was shaking, people were screaming. McCoy was cursing and holding on to the railing for dear life.

 

“Return fire”, Kirk barked. “Mr Checkhov, lock phasers and fire at will.” 

 

“Mr Checkhov, you will fire the torpedoes,” Ringer roared. 

 

At that moment, the Enterprise took another hit and Chekhov was thrown clean out of his seat.

 

“Shields are gone, Captain”, Sulu shouted.

 

Ringer jumped up from behind Kirk and pressed a combination of commands on Checkov's console. Immediately, four photon torpedoes moved towards the Romulan ship, exploding just outside its hull.

 

“Sulu, get us out of here, now, maximum speed!” Kirk shouted.

 

Another round of fire from the Bird of Prey narrowly missed the Enterprise as she sped toward Federation space.

 

“Damage report,” Kirk barked. 

 

“Communications are down, Captain, I have nothing internal or external,” Uhura punched her console in frustration.

 

“Chekhov, man the scanners,” Kirk ordered. Are the Romulans following us?”

 

“No, Keptin,” the Russian had picked himself up from the floor and had sprinted to the science station. “I think they have turned around.”

 

Kirk let out a breath, then rounded on Ringer. “What the hell were you thinking? We lost shields out there and almost lost the ship. What were you babbling about, a virus in the torpedoes? Do I get an explanation now?”

 

Ringer, still smiling that self-satisfied smile, turned towards Kirk. “Well, Captain, I don't see why not. Maybe it will make you more cooperative. After all you are part of my brilliant plan and you should get to enjoy it, too.”

 

 


	10. Explanation

Kirk could not remember ever having been angrier is his life. He had the entire bridge crew assembled in the briefing room and they were all waiting for Ringer to reveal what was going on. Kirk stared at the Admiral with his arms crossed. _This had better be good_ , he thought. 

 

But Ringer was taking his time. He let his gaze drift from face to face, the officers either averting their gaze, or, in the case of Kirk and McCoy eyeing him with open hostility. The Admiral smiled. 

 

“Well, gentlemen. And lady,” – he nodded to Uhura – “let me start by telling you this: You are witnessing a great moment for the Federation. A great moment indeed.”

 

Kirk and McCoy exchanged an exasperated glance.

 

“An hour ago,” Ringer continued, “we engaged a Romulan Bird of Prey in battle. When we return to the Neutral Zone in another hour, we will find the ship adrift and the crew dead.”

 

Kirk jumped to his feet. “What do you mean, return to the Neutral Zone?” he exploded. “You already nearly got us killed once today. Isn't that enough? Bones, how many men have we lost?”

 

“24 dead, Jim. And 72 injured”, McCoy replied morosely.

 

“This is my crew we are talking about here, Admiral. I have received no written orders, no explanation and you keep talking nonsense about killing the whole crew of a Romulan ship. Is this some sort of joke?”

 

“Calm yourself, Captain. If only you would let me finish,” Ringer said with infuriating calm. When no protest came from Kirk, the Admiral continued.

 

“Well then. I shall start from the beginning and will give you a piece of news which should delight you: Your former First Officer is not a traitor, Captain. He is part of this plan, a martyr for the Federation.”

 

“What in the name of...” McCoy could not even finish the sentence and the rest of Ringer's audience were equally stunned. 

 

The Admiral made himself comfortable in his chair. 

 

“Three and a half months ago, I intercepted Commander Spock just after the New Life Conference on Tellar and gave him a special assignment. He didn't want it, of course. Made all kinds of excuses. Said he didn't want to betray you, captain – or the Enterprise.” Ringer nodded in Kirk's direction.

 

“Of course, I had to explain to him that he wouldn't be betraying you, he would _save_ you.” Ringer chuckled. “Very loyal your Vulcan is – well, was... Anyway, I could not let him in on the whole plan. Vulcans are so terribly moral. I think he would have resigned his commission rather than bring death and destruction even to the enemy.” Ringer sighed.

 

“It wasn't easy, you know. Spock needed to believe he was going to Romulus to establish contact with some dissenters, who would overthrow the Romulan government pretty much peacefully and then sign a peace treaty with the Federation. I even gave him the name of some contact person who wasn't even real... Then you needed to believe that Spock was actually a traitor or you would never have allowed him to be taken off your ship. Finally, the Romulans needed to believe Spock was a defector, or at least they needed to want to take him to Romulus for questioning.”

 

“I can't believe this”, Kirk mumbled. Ringer kept referring to Spock in the past tense; he had called him a martyr. Could it be…? No, it could not, Spock could not be dead. He was on Romulus, yes, but alive, surely?

 

Ignoring Kirk's remark, the Admiral continued. “They _didn't_ believe it, apparently. Had him thrown straight in a cell when they took him from that shuttle, gave him a good beating too Admiral Truger's people tell me.”

 

Kirk paled and McCoy swallowed hard. 

 

“But what the Romulans believe or do not believe never mattered. What mattered was that Spock got to Romulus and from there, there was no way back.”

 

Ringer now had the full attention of his audience, everyone was staring at him, captivated.

 

“Doctor McCoy,” Ringer said conversationally, “remember when I asked you if you wanted to be the one to administer the vaccinations to Spock?”

 

“I, errr...” McCoy coloured visibly.

 

“Yes, an uncomfortable topic for you. I could tell when we had our little conversation. Thank you by the way for making it so easy for me to have it done through the Starbase instead. That way I was easily able to switch one of the vials of vaccine with one containing a pretty potent new virus.”

 

McCoy thought he might be sick.

 

“Not dangerous for us, of course, don't worry. But quite deadly for species with copper-based blood. Highly contagious, too. You see, Spock's hybrid physiology extended the incubation period, so that the Romulans would not become suspicious too soon. A full-blooded Romulan or Vulcan will die within two days of exposure to the virus, but I wanted Spock to have enough time to get in contact with the Romulan Imperial Senate. And our intelligence tells us it worked. Romulus is in chaos, defenceless, completely open to attack. And our little excursion into the Neutral Zone, for which you so heavily criticized me, captain, was a warning to those Romulan ships who would dare to fight us on our way to the Romulan home world. There will be no one to prevent us from finishing them off.” 

 

The Admiral looked around triumphantly. “Well, Kirk. Don’t you think you we me an apology?”

 

But it was McCoy who first spoke. “You are sick, Admiral. Only a sick and twisted mind could come up with this. This is murder, this is genocide.” McCoy was working himself into a rage.

 

“That's enough, doctor.” James Kirk looked at the Admiral, keeping his face carefully neutral. He stood up, facing Ringer. Then, with one swift punch, the Admiral was on the floor. Kirk was rubbing his knuckles. “Get security up here, take him to the brig.” 

 

Nobody moved. “Do it now!” Kirk shouted and Scotty moved to the intercom panel, calling security to the briefing room.

 

“Kirk,” Ringer said sternly, getting up. “You just struck a superior officer and now you want to have me taken to the brig? This is outrageous, this is mutiny. Gentlemen, I trust you will not comply with these orders.” 

 

“Admiral,” Kirk's face was deadly serious. “I may not always agree with Starfleet's orders and I may not always like the way politics work. But I still believe in the basic ideals the Federation was founded on. There is no way that you had authorisation for your crazy genocidal plan. If this virus affects species with copper-based blood, the Vulcans at least would have had enough sense to veto this insane undertaking and I will certainly not be a part of it. And this is for Spock!” Kirk raised his fist, punching Ringer a second time.

 

At that moment security arrived. “Take the Admiral to the brig.” 

 

The security guards complied, leading an angry Admiral crying “mutiny” out of the briefing room. 

 

It had been a long day and Kirk needed to think. “I'll be in my quarters,” he told no one in particular, his mind already racing.

 

 

***

 

Kirk was still weighing up possibilities in his head when, three hours later, his door chime sounded.

 

“Who is it?”, he asked, somewhat annoyed.

 

“It’s Scott, sir,” the Chief Engineer’s brogue announced.

 

“Come in Scotty,” Kirk sighed.

 

Scott entered, carrying a bottle of amber liquid, McCoy right behind him.

 

“We thought you could use a drink, Jim,” McCoy announced.

 

Kirk smiled. “That is very thoughtful of you, gentlemen, but I can’t drink. I have to make some decision and I’ll need a clear head tomorrow.”

 

“Aye, sir, but you see, that is the beauty of this little gem,” Scotty tapped the bottle in his hand. “It supposedly tastes just like Whisky and has the same…relaxing effect but without a hangover. Mr Spock gave it to me for my birthday. It’s secreted by an organism someone presented on at the New Life Conference.”

 

They all fell silent for a moment at the mention of the conference that had started the events they found themselves in now.

 

“Well,” Kirk finally said, “Mr Scott, you are a very persuasive man. It seems I can’t refuse.”

 

The Scotsman smiled and produced three glasses, filling one after another with the shimmering liquid.

 

“I kept this for a special occasion, sir. But now that Mr Spock is… it just seemed like a good time to open it.”

 

“Thanks, Scotty, Kirk smiled painfully. “To absent friends.”

 

“Absent friends,” Scott and McCoy responded.

 

They all drank in silence and McCoy’s eyes widened.

 

“Well, I’ll be damned. It tastes just like a real single malt,” McCoy marvelled. “Leave it to Spock to find a drink that makes my famous hangover cures obsolete. Jim,” McCoy hesitated. “Jim, I wish… I just wish…”

 

“I know, Bones.” Kirk took another sip of his drink. “I know.”

 

 


	11. Decision

Spock was drifting in and out of consciousness. When Tulak had collapsed on the floor, he had shouted for help between coughs, but no one had heard him, or, perhaps, they had merely ignored him. Tulak was too weak to get up and Spock, though he tried, was too weak to help him in any way.

 

They had both passed out from pain and exhaustion eventually, but Tulak had not woken up again. The next time Spock opened his eyes, Tulak still lay where he had fallen, dead. 

 

In one of his more lucid moments, Spock wondered why no one had come looking for Tulak. Little did he know that the world outside had been swallowed by panic and fear, leaving no one who still thought about Tulak the Imperial Guard and his prisoner down below the Hall of State.

 

When Spock woke for the second time, it began to dawn on him that something must have happened. It was only logical. Not only had no one come looking for Tulak, whose corpse still lay on the cold stone floor, all movement and sound that Spock's keen hearing had been able to pick up the day before had stopped. 

 

Spock wanted to think, to understand, but in his delirious state found it hard to summon the powers of logic. He realized he had not eaten in three days and had not been drinking any water for two. By sheer willpower, he managed to stretch his hand far enough to reach the bucket of water Tulak had emptied out over him. There was still a little water left and though it was filthy, Spock swallowed it painfully, then fell back exhausted, once again engulfed by blackness.

 

***

 

It was early morning on the Enterprise and Kirk had not slept much but he had made a decision. Now he sat down in the captain's chair with single-minded determination. It was too early for Alpha shift personnel to be on duty, yet when he had entered the bridge, Sulu, Chekhov and Uhrua had already been there and even Mr Scott had come up from Engineering and was talking to Uhura in a hushed voice. Minutes after Kirk, McCoy had also appeared on the bridge, silently taking his place next to Kirk.

 

“Lt. Uhura, are communications still out?” Kirk asked.

 

“Still out, captain,” Uhura confirmed.

 

“Captain's log, Stardate 4733.5. The altercation with the Romulans has left us without communications and I cannot contact Starfleet Command. Admiral Ringer has admitted to instigating an attack on the Romulan Empire, using biological weapons, as forbidden by the Geneva Protocol of 2155. I take full responsibility for placing him in the brig and for my next actions. We are going to go to Romulus on a humanitarian mission, to try and undo some of the damage the Admiral's plan has caused. If it is not too late.”

 

McCoy laid a hand on Kirk's shoulder. “Good on you, Jim.” 

 

Kirk briefly smiled.

 

“Mr Sulu, plot a course for Romulus.”

 

"Plotted and laid in, sir."

 

"Warp six."

 

Warp six. ETA 6 hours and 29 minutes, captain.

 

***

 

Spock was suddenly wide awake. He felt better than he had since before his meeting with the Romulan Senate. What was more, he could finally think clearly and he understood immediately what must have happened. An epidemic. He and Tulak were victims of the same disease. The coughing, the blood, it could not be a coincidence. And since no one had come to the cell in three days, he had to assume that this was an illness that had spread rapidly, leaving the Romulans with concerns greater than whether or not the Starfleet defector was a spy.

 

But why had Tulak died so quickly while he, Spock, was still alive, even though Spock's symptoms had started earlier than Tulak's? The only logical explanation, Spock thought, was his hybrid physiology. His human half must be keeping him alive – for now. _McCoy_ , Spock thought, _would certainly be delighted by this_. The human factors in his body saving him while his usually superior Vulcan physiology was affected by a deadly disease? Spock permitted himself to smile thinking of the smug look the Doctor would put on. But was his human half strong enough to truly save him? Was that what this was? Or was he just getting better before he got worse again, as it often happened with terminally ill patients?  

 

Feeling suddenly very tired, Spock closed his eyes. He found himself wondering whether Jim and Leonard would ever find out what had happened to him, if he died here. And more importantly, would they know that he had not actually betrayed them, that he was not a defector? 

 

***

 

The Enterprise had just crossed into the Neutral Zone when Chekhov piped up from the science station: “Captain, large object ahead. It is drifting.”

 

“On screen, Lieutenant.”

 

“My good,” McCoy gasped. 

 

On screen a Romulan ship drifted idly in the blackness of space.

 

Kirk swallowed hard. “Life signs?”

 

“Negative, keptin,” Chekhov replied.

 

“So it's true,” Kirk mused, “we killed them.”

 

The bridge crew exchanged sombre glances. Yes, these were Romulans, but nobody deserved to die like this.

 

“Bones”, Kirk said, breaking the silence. Have Scotty accompany you to the weapons bay and take a sample of this virus stored in the torpedoes. When we get to Romulus, we're gonna want to be prepared.”

 

“On it, Jim.” McCoy stepped in to the turbo lift.

 

“Hang on, Bones, I’m coming with you. Sulu, you have the con. Call me immediately if we run into any more Romulans.

 

***

 

They didn’t encounter any more Romulans. The Neutral Zone and Romulan space were eerily deserted as the sped towards Romulus.

 

And so Kirk spent the remaining hours until their arrival in the lab, watching from behind a pane of glass as McCoy and his staff tested and examined the virus. Feeling useless, he watched them move about in their bio hazard gear as they put the virus under a microscope, into a centrifuge, and into test tubes with other substances. As he stood watching, his mind began to wander.

 

Why hadn’t Spock come to him and informed him of his secret mission? Well, the answer to that question was obvious. He had been under orders not to reveal anything. And why hadn’t he, Kirk, noticed that something was going on with his friend, or at least paid more attention to McCoy’s observations? Most importantly, why hadn’t he even said goodbye to Spock?

 

It suddenly hit him that if Spock were a full Vulcan, he would have been dead for about two days now. “A full-blooded Vulcan will die within two days of exposure to the virus”, Ringer had said. And a half-Vulcan? It had been four days since Spock had left the Enterprise. Kirk felt a surge of irrational hope mixed with feelings of utter despair. 

 

At that moment, McCoy came through the door of the lab, removing his protective gear. 

 

“It’s like Ringer said, Jim. This stuff is completely harmless for humans but absolutely deadly for Romulans. And Vulcans.” McCoy blinked hard and looked away before he continued.

 

“From what I can tell, this virus should cause symptoms similar to those humans with pneumonic plague would encounter, meaning weakness, headache, fever and nausea, plus rapidly developing pneumonia with shortness of breath, chest pain and bloody discharge when coughing. Humans cannot be carriers, so not to worry. That said, what we should worry about is how to treat anyone who’s caught this virus. And how to develop a vaccine. The virus is highly complex. My staff are working on it and I’ll get right back to it myself. Just came out here to update you.”

 

“Thanks, Bones,” Kirk said, managing a smile. “Actually, I was wondering if you’d accompany me down to the planet. We should be arriving in 20 minutes. I could use a doctor’s opinion down there.”

 

“You’re gonna beam down to Romulus?” McCoy asked incredulously. “Jim, that’s a suicide mission.”

 

“I have a feeling the Romulans won’t be paying us much attention and we need to see what we can do to help. Besides…Bones, what if he’s still alive somewhere down there?” Jim’s eyes were pleading.

 

“Jim… I wish I could say otherwise but after examining this virus… I just don’t think… I’m sorry. God knows, I’m sorry.” _I’m sorry, Spock, for not doing my duty as your doctor_ , McCoy thought. “Oh, Jim, I should have been there. I could have prevented Ringer from injecting Spock with this terrible stuff.” McCoy felt tears stinging his eyes.

 

“It was not your fault, Bones,” Kirk said softly. "But remember, Ringer said the form of the virus we have on board is more potent that what he gave Spock. Please come down with me. If there's any chance that he's still alive, I will not abandon him and if I have to find him dead, I don’t want to be alone.”

 

 


	12. Reunion

“Entering Romulus's orbit,” Sulu announced with a surprisingly steady voice. They were all nervous but so far, they had not been greeted by any Birds of Prey, nor even received a message from the surface. It was as though the Romulans had not even noticed them.

 

“I'm picking up communications from the planet, captain,” Uhura announced from her station. “I will put it through the universal translator.”

 

“On audio, Lieutenant,” Kirk ordered, listening carefully.

 

“...quarantine measures ineffective, over 160,000 dead, recommend evacuation of southern continent to colonies in the...” The transmission broke off.

 

“My god, Jim,” McCoy's eyes were wide. “160,000 dead in four days. That means tomorrow it will be over three million, and over 60 million the day after that. Another four days and all Romulans will be wiped off the planet.”

 

“No wonder they're nor paying us any attention,” Kirk muttered. “They really do have bigger problems. We're gonna go down there and try to obtain some blood samples from infected Romulans,” Kirk continued more audibly. “Doctor, any advice on where we should begin?”

 

“Well, Jim, I'd say wherever the disease began to spread would be best. There we should have a chance to find the least mutated form of the virus. We know it's a less potent version from the one we have on board already, and I'd like to be able to examine it in its original form.”

 

“Surface scan, Mr Chekhov,” Kirk ordered. “Try to find out if there are any regions with dense infrastructure but few life signs. That we can assume would be a likely point of origin of the outbreak.”

 

Chekhov, bent over the science station, announced after a couple of minutes. “I've got something, keptin. Might be their capital. Very dense infrastructure, many representative buildings, but very low life signs and activity. Energy supply does not seem to functioning either, sir.”

 

“Doctor McCoy, grab your supplies and meet me in the transporter room in 10 minutes. Scotty, you have the conn.”

 

***

 

Restor roamed the deserted streets of his native city. So this was the end. Unlike most others who were not infected – _not yet_ , he thought – he had no desire to spend his last days barricaded, waiting for the infection to creep in. He wanted a last look at the place he had grown up in, the heart of the Romulan Empire, the place he loved.

 

Just as the passed the Hall of State, a transporter beam caught his attention. For a brief moment, he hoped that help had arrived. Though he had heard that the Romulan star ships on patrol during the outbreak had set course for various Romulan outposts in order to escape both contamination and the new weapons the Federation was rumoured to have used on one such unfortunate expedition, he had not quite abandoned hope that aboard one of these ships a scientist would be achieving what their scientists down here had failed to do: find a cure for this epidemic.

 

When the four figures had fully materialized, however, Tulak's heart dropped. The Federation. So now the invaders were here. No, he would not allow it. He fingered a disruptor rifle he had found abandoned outside a looted shop. In a few days we would be dead, but if he had the chance to take some of that Federation scum with him, he would not turn it down.

 

He crouched behind an abandoned glider, slowly sneaking closer to the invaders. 

 

***

 

The landing party materialized in a large, completely deserted square. Kirk had chosen this location as it housed the largest, most representative building in the city. As good a starting point as any, he thought, looking around. Behind him, McCoy was fiddling with a tricorder. He needed blood from infected Romulans and though they had thought about approaching some Romulans who were still alive, they had decided against it, as the Romulans would likely not cooperate. Besides, the longer a Romulan was dead, the likelier his blood was to contain the least mutated version of the virus. 

 

Suddenly, in the silence surrounding them, they heard a voice, cold and determined. “Drop your weapons.”

 

Kirk spun around and set eyes on a Romulan standing forlornly in the middle of the great square, pointing a disruptor rifle at them. Thompson and Warner, the two security guards, pointed their phasers at the Romulan, but their adversary was quicker. He fired at Warner, disintegrating him, and ducked away from Thompson's phaser beam. The Romulan then pointed his weapon at McCoy. “I said, drop your weapons, or I'll shoot again.”

 

“Drop your phaser, Thompon,” Kirk shouted, letting his own slide across the floor towards the Romulan. Thompson hesitated for a moment, then followed his captain's example.

 

The Romulan slowly advanced, kicking the two weapons away as he passed them. “So, you're the invasion squad. I wondered how long it would take for the Federation to show up here. But I won't let you take this planet. If I kill you, others will come and I may not be here to defend my planet then, but for now I'm still alive and I'll be damned if you get off Romulus alive.” He pointed his disruptor at Kirk. “You. You're the leader. I will kill you first.”

 

“Wait!” Kirk shouted. And then, calmer: “Wait. Please. Let me talk for a second.” The Romulan looked at him suspiciously but he did not shoot.

 

“We're not here to invade you. We're here to help. I know it's hard to believe but please listen to me for a minute.” 

 

The Romulan did not move, which Kirk took as encouragement to continue speaking. Thinking complete honesty was probably his only chance, he gave a short version of the events of the past four days.

 

“...so if we were here to invade you,” he finished, “why would there be only four of us and not a whole army?”

 

The Romulan did not look convinced. “Maybe you're just the scouting party...” But Kirk could see the Romulan was thinking. 

 

“Look at the doctor's equipment,” - Kirk pointed to McCoy's set of hypos and test tubes. “We're here to take some samples and then we want to help find a cure for this virus. This is not how the Federation operates; this is the result of the actions of one man.”

 

“I need more proof”, the Romulan snapped. “You said your First Officer, the Vulcan, he was brought here and started this epidemic. If we find him, I will believe you.”

 

Kirk and McCoy looked at each other helplessly. 

 

“We would like to find him, but how can we?” Kirk asked. He is... he is most probably dead and even if he were alive, we would not be able to contact him.

 

“You said he was a prisoner here,” the Romulan mused. “And a high profile one, too. A possible Starfleet defector. I bet they kept him right here in the Hall of State. If we find his body there, you're free to go. If not, I shall kill you all. Move!” He said, waving them on with the disruptor pointed at them.

 

***

 

From the outside the Hall of State was an impressive building, but from the inside it was even more imposing. High vaulted ceilings, lavishly decorated wall panels – McCoy kept turning his head, expecting the Praetor's guard to come around a corner any minute. But nobody came; everything was deserted and quiet. The Romulan marched them aimlessly around the building. Clearly, he does not know where the prisoners are kept, McCoy thought. But, then of course, McCoy did not know the exact locations of Federation prisons either.

 

After about 30 minutes, they began descending the steps into the cellar of the building. It was much colder down here, McCoy noticed, shivering in his short-sleeved uniform shirt. He was not really expecting this search to yield any results and had almost reconciled himself to the fact that he was probably going to be shot down here, when, turning his head to look into one of the cells they were passing, he saw two bodies lying on the floor, one clad into a soiled Starfleet standard issue prisoner jumpsuit. “Spock,” he gasped.

 

***

 

Aboard the Enterprise, Scotty has getting nervous. The landing party had missed their first hourly check-in. 15 more minutes and I'm sending a search party down there, he thought.

 

To distract himself, he checked in with the medical labs. “Any progress on the antidote?” He asked over the intercom. “None so far,” replied a tired Dr M'Benga. “But we're working on it.”

 

“Very well, Scott out.”

 

This was not going well, Scott thought. Not well at all.

 

***

 

Hands shaking, McCoy bent over Spock's still form. Foregoing the scanner, he reached for the Vulcan's wrist, looking for a pulse. His hand was cold and clammy but, though thin and thready, there was definitely a pulse.

 

“Jim,” McCoy said, swallowing back tears, “Jim, he's alive.”

 

Kirk squatted down beside his First Officer, taking in his bruises, and grey pallor of his skin and the almost imperceptible movement of his chest, the irregular breaths.

 

“We need to get him back to the ship.” Kirk turned around towards the Romulan. “We've found him. Do you believe us now?” Kirk asked. “We want to help, but to do that, we need to get some blood samples and get back to our ship. Will you let us go?”

 

The Romulan crossed his arms before his chest, but he had put the disruptor away. “How do I know you will really try to help us? How do I know you won't just beam back to your ship and leave us here to die?” He asked suspiciously. “No, I cannot let you go. You – he pointed at McCoy. You're the doctor, you can go back and work on a cure but he – he pointed at Spock – and you, captain, you stay here. For leverage.”

 

McCoy rounded on him. “This man is dying. He needs treatment immediately.”

 

“Thousands of Romulans are dying, _they_ need treatment immediately,” the Romulan spat. “And I didn't say you can't treat him. I said you can't take him to your ship.”

 

McCoy turned back to Spock and began scanning him. “His lungs are filled with blood, broken collarbone and broken ribs, inner bleeding, burns to the hands, contusions all over his body... Jim, I have no idea how he is still alive. And how am I supposed to treat him without access to my equipment.”

 

“Have it beamed down,” the Romulan suggested nonchalantly. 

 

“Fine,” McCoy spat angrily. He gave Spock a tri-ox compound and an antibiotic, then reached for his communicator to signal the ship.

 

“Not so fast, doctor,” the Romulan had retrieved the disruptor and was aiming it at Spock. “No tricks.”

 

McCoy swallowed nervously and looked over to Jim who nodded imperceptibly.

 

“McCoy to Enterprise. Come in, Enterprise.”

 

“Enterprise here,” Scotty sounded relieved. “Doctor, we were worried when you missed you check-in. Is everything alright?”

 

“Yes, Scotty,” McCoy made an effort to make is voice sound casual. “Everything's fine. I just need you to beam down some equipment.” He began to rattle off a list of things he would need to treat Spock. 

 

While waiting for the Enterprise to beam down what he needed, McCoy drew blood samples from Spock and the dead Romulan in the cell. The live Romulan in the cell kept his disruptor pointed alternately at McCoy, Kirk, Spock and Thompson. McCoy approached him. “I could use some of your blood as well. If you're healthy, I'll have something to compare the infected blood with, and if you're already infected, it'll give me a look at the disease in its early stages,” he said coldly. As an answer, the Romulan pointed his disruptor at him.

 

McCoy suddenly shivered at his own callousness. This was a patient, after all. Romulan, yes, but also scared and quite possibly dying. He needed to seriously adjust his bedside manner. “What's your name?” he asked the Romulan.

 

“Restor.” 

 

“I'm sorry, Restor. What I said just now was not very nice of me. It's just... I'm worried about my friend,”-  he looked over at Spock – “just like you're worried about your friends. Let's work together to fight this virus.”

 

The Romulan kept the disruptor pointed at McCoy with his right hand but he held out his left arm to McCoy. McCoy quickly drew the blood sample and put it away with the others.

 

At that moment a box containing McCoy's requested supplies shimmered into existence. He was about to open it in order to begin treating Spock as best he could under these circumstances when Restor spoke up again. 

 

“No. You will go back to your ship and work on a cure. Now that you have the blood samples you needed, that's all you must do. I would tell you not to tell anyone about me, or the Vulcan or what's been happening down here, but I know you will anyway. But, I repeat, doctor: no tricks. If I see any other person from your ship down here, I will shoot your Captain and the Vulcan.”

 

“You said I could treat him!” McCoy shouted angrily. “He may not have much longer now.” 

 

“All the more an incentive for you to work fast, doctor,” Restor replied.

 

“Fine, what if I beam back up but send down medical personnel to...”

 

“No one else is to beam down from your ship, am I making myself quite clear? Your captain and this guard will stay here. They can treat the Vulcan, you must find a cure.” 

 

“But they are not trained doctors,” McCoy pleaded. He looked helplessly at Jim.

 

“I can't believe I'm saying this, Bones, but he's right,” Kirk said abjectly. “You need to find a cure for this virus, for Spock as much as for the Romulans. Explain to me what to do for Spock and I will keep him alive till you find it, I swear.”

 

McCoy looked doubtful. Jim was not squeamish, but this wasn't going to be pretty.

 

“And doctor, before you go... just so you don't get any ideas. Get the communicators from your captain and that guard.”

 

McCoy gave Jim a desperate look but did as he was told.

 

“Now place them on the floor.”

 

And will a well-aimed shot, Restor had reduced the two communicators to ashes.

 

“Now you may go.”

 

 


	13. Obligation

Back aboard the Enterprise, McCoy gave Scotty a quick report on what had happened on Romulus and the hostage situation they had on their hands now on top of everything else, then he made for the labs with his samples. Scott hadn't liked what he was hearing one bit but understood his hands were tied if he did not want to endanger the lives of the Enterprise's captain and First Officer, especially since they no longer had their communicators.

 

McCoy, meanwhile, thought about the last conversation he'd had with Spock, the day the Vulcan had been arrested. _Not so much of a conversation_ , McCoy thought, _as an angry tirade on my part_.

 

The last thing he'd said to Spock had been “I certainly hope I never have to speak to you again.” He hadn't meant it of course. But what was truly unforgivable was that he had abandoned Spock after that. Not checking in on him, neither as his doctor, nor as his friend.

 

McCoy swore he would speak to Spock again. And when he did, it would be an apology.

 

He just hoped that he hadn't just left Spock to die at the hands of his best friend. McCoy dismissed the thought and feverishly began to work.

 

***

 

Kirk was kneeling before Spock, perspiration forming on his forehead. McCoy had talked him though this procedure three times and Kirk had feigned confidence but now that he was actually about to do it, he felt nervous and scared.

 

“Thompson, get over here,” Kirk commanded. The security guard kneeled down next to him. “Hold the torch,” Kirk instructed. Restor was watching them from the back of the cell, disruptor in hand but no longer pointing it at them. Thompson took the emergency light Kirk had been holding and pointed it at Spock’s torso. 

 

Kirk gripped the syringe more firmly. He had already cut open Spock’s dirty jumpsuit and cleaned the area around his rib cage as carefully as possible, mindful of the broken ribs and the discoloured bruises on his friend’s body. He had also applied disinfectant, all that remained to be done now was to actually stick the needle in. 

 

The needle, or as McCoy had called it, 'the torture instrument', was something McCoy had requested when he had realized that he would have none of his usual equipment at his disposal to treat Spock. It stemmed from McCoy’s collection of antique medical instruments. “It’s the best we can do under these circumstances,” McCoy had said bitterly. “Normally, I would use a laser scalpel and insert a micro shunt, but that's not possible without a surgical robot and since we can't get to sickbay, that’s not an option. So, Jim, Spock's skinny, so you wanna go in till just the tip of the needle has disappeared. Just make sure you don’t hit a rib. You want to get out the fluid outside his lungs. Don't go in too far or you'll give him a pneumothorax.”

 

 _Here we go_ , Kirk thought and with one strong push the needle was in. He pulled at the back of the syringe until it was filled with a yellow-greenish mixture of blood and Kirk didn't care to know what else. When it was full he pulled out the needle and squeezed a jet of green onto the floor.

 

Kirk filled and emptied the syringe three more times, then disinfected and dressed the wound he had left.

 

“Afterwards, you’re gonna wanna keep him upright to help with his breathing,” McCoy had said. So Kirk sat down on the floor, his back against the wall and pulled Spock up against his chest. And so they waited. 

 

After two hours, Thompson started to get restless. He had been sitting a respectful distance from Kirk and Spock but now he got up and started to pace in the cell. 

 

“Sit down,” Restor growled. 

 

"I'm not taking orders from you," Thompson barked back. Kirk was about to intervene when Restor suddenly doubled over in a terrible coughing fit. Sensing his chance, Thompson approached the Romulan, but Restor was faster. He aimed the disruptor and shot. “No!” Kirk shouted, but Thompson was gone. 

 

“You didn't have to do that,” Kirk shouted angrily.

 

“He attacked me,” Restor sputtered between coughs, now pointing the disruptor at Kirk, and therefore at Spock, who was resting against the captain's chest. “I advise you, captain, not to anger me.”

 

“Put that down.” Kirk was eying the disruptor uneasily but forced his voice and face not to betray his fear.

 

“You won't kill us. You said it yourself, we're leverage. And Spock sure as hell is not going anywhere, and neither am I, so no need to threaten us. Besides, you're not too well yourself. Better conserve your energy.”

 

“Spare me your advice, human,” Restor spat angrily, but he lowered the disruptor and finally put it down on the floor next to him.

 

“We are here to help, you know,” Kirk offered. “Let me give you a painkiller from the medical kit,” he suggested.

 

“So you can drug me and escape? Not likely, human.” Restor coughed again.

 

 _He doesn't trust me and I can hardly blame him_ , Kirk thought, carefully readjusting Spock's position. _So, then, I guess we just wait_.

 

***

 

After only five hours in the lab, McCoy could hardly believe his eyes when he added the latest antiviral agent he and his team had been working on to Restor's blood and it not only stopped the virus from replicating but destroyed it completely. Even better, it was non-toxic to the Romulan's blood cells. This, McCoy knew, was a major breakthrough. Elated, he tried the same antiviral agent on Spock's blood and immediately his spirits dampened. While in Spock's blood the antiviral also stopped the reproduction of the virus, the dose McCoy needed to add to destroy it was so high, he realized it was going to become toxic to Spock before long. So while he now had a cure for the Romulans – and with this knowledge they would soon have a vaccine too – the Vulcan would have to choose between remaining a carrier of the virus, or risk dying in the process of eradicating the virus from his system.

 

He briefly considered staying and working on an antiviral that would work better for Spock but ultimately decided against it. Normally, developing antiviral agents took a long time, time he knew the Romulans that were still alive didn’t have. It was an impossible stroke of luck to have found a drug that would help the Romulans so quickly. It was his duty as a doctor to start treating them. Plus, McCoy thought, the sooner I get back down to the planet with a cure, the sooner I can get Jim and Spock back to the Enterprise.

 

He packed his medical kit and after instructing his team to keep working on a drug more suited to Spock’s physiology, made his way to the transporter room.

 

 


	14. Retribution

Kirk was starting to get scared. McCoy had told him it could take a long time before they came up with any results, but he had not really thought about what this meant and only now was it beginning to sink in. It meant, he thought looking at Restor who was once again coughing violently and by now writhing in pain, that he might soon be sharing this room not with one, but with two dead bodies. _Three_ , he thought desperately, as he waved McCoy's medical scanner over Spock's still form. Since he had first removed the fluid from around Spock’s lungs hours earlier, more fluid had seeped in, not to mention the blood still inside Spock's lungs, and his breathing was even more flat and irregular than before.

 

 _What if Spock dies before Bones comes back_? Kirk thought gloomily, watching Restor try to stand up only to collapse in a shivering heap. Was this what Spock had gone through in the last couple of days?

 

Kirk carefully laid Spock onto the ground, grabbed the medical kit and went over to Restor who was panting and wheezing but who still noticed him approaching and immediately reached for the disruptor. Kirk kept his distance and spoke as calmly as possible. 

 

“Look, Restor. This is our medical kit. All the supplies are labelled. Why don't you inject yourself at least with a painkiller? Some tri-ox would probably help too. No tricks, I promise.” And with that he slid the medical kit over to Restor.

 

The Romulan fixed his feverish eyes on Kirk, then on the medical kit. He reached for it and began to rummage through the different vials and hypos, snatching one containing tri-ox and one painkiller and injected himself with his hands shaking. The effect was immediate. The shaking that had made his body tremble stopped and he seemed to be breathing more easily.

 

At that moment, McCoy materialized where he had disappeared six hours earlier. Restor quickly grabbed his disruptor, pointing it at the doctor and only letting it sink down once he was sure McCoy had come alone.

 

McCoy looked around the cell and sought out Kirk's eyes for confirmation that Spock was still alive. Once he had it, he turned to Restor who was able to sit up once again. McCoy squatted down in front of the Romulan to speak with him eye to eye.

 

Without further delay, he told Restor: “We have a cure.”

 

Restor said nothing.

 

“I tested it on your blood sample and it eradicated the virus completely,” McCoy continued. “It should not damage your cells, but of course I don't have time to run further tests. Well, you don't have time... so, will you let me give it to you first before we start using it on the rest of the population?” 

 

Restor sneered. “You have not done tests on live subjects and now want me as your Guinea pig, doctor?” 

 

“I don't see any other option,” McCoy said gently.

 

“Oh, but I do,” Restor replied evenly. “Give it to the Vulcan first, then you can try it on me. I want to be sure what you're giving me is not poison.”

 

McCoy looked outraged. “I don't want you as a Guinea pig, I want to help you,” he exploded. “Giving this to Spock makes no sense. His physiology is different. This is a cure for Romulans, not for half-Vulcans. Why would I try to poison you? If I were trying to kill you, I could have just waited a couple of more hours and the virus would have taken care of that for me!”

 

Restor's face remained hard. “No, you couldn't, because then he might have been dead too,” he said waving the disruptor he was still clutching in Spock's direction. “Give him the drug, doctor.”

 

“I can't," McCoy stammered. I can't because I don't know that it won't do more damage than good. Please... Besides, the effect won't be immediate, you wouldn't be able to see him improving so quickly, even if the drug were made for him.”

 

"I don't need to see him improve, doctor. I just need to see him survive the injection.”

 

“Please, Restor,” Kirk tried to intervene. “Have we not shown our goodwill, proved our trustworthiness? McCoy did as you asked and I gave you medical supplies. Please don't do this to our friend. We are here on a humanitarian mission.”

 

Restor snorted. “ _Humanitarian_. Yes, that about sums it all up. You humans are so superior, always thinking you are at the centre of everything. But this is not about you. This is about us green-blooded sub-humans, who your people just tried to eradicate. So either you inject the Vulcan now, doctor, or I will shoot him.” He pointed the disruptor at Spock, finger on the trigger.

 

Exchanging a desperate look with the captain, McCoy went over to where Kirk had laid Spock on the floor. “Forgive me, Spock,” he mumbled as he emptied a hypo spray containing the antiviral into his arm. Restor, Kirk and McCoy were all staring at the Vulcan. Nothing happened. McCoy waved the medical scanner over Spock. “I told you the effects would not be immediate,” he said, addressing Restor. “But as you can see, he is still alive and if you wanna get over here I can show you on the tricorder how you can see that the antiviral is starting to attack the virus.”

 

“I believe you, doctor.” Restor smiled. “In fact, I never doubted your word but I want the dirty Vulcan who brought this on my people to suffer as much as possible. And from your reluctance to do what you just did, I gathered that he would suffer if I stayed strong.” Restor grinned. “Now, if you please, doctor, I believe your _humanitarian_ duty demands that you inject me too.”

 

McCoy did not even argue. He just wanted to get Spock to sickbay as soon as possible. He injected Restor and turned to Kirk. “Let's go,” he said, taking out his communicator. “Scotty, three to beam up.”

 

 


	15. Resolution

Back on the Enterprise McCoy had delegated the task of organizing immunization teams to Dr M'Benga. They had prepared thousands of hypos with the antiviral and thousands more containing a vaccine the medical staff had developed by now. M'Benga was enlisting the help of virtually the entire crew in going down to the planet and distributing the medicine. They started strategically at hospitals and research institutions where Romulan medics, once cured, would be able to help and mobilize Romulus's own resources. 

 

After two days, the epidemic was under control in so far that the mortality rate was no longer rising, and after a week, the mission was complete, the virus finally eradicated. 

 

The Enterprise had finally re-established communications with Starfleet command and Kirk had received full support for his actions. High level diplomats were in contact with the Romulan authorities, trying to mitigate the damage done by Ringer and Truger, expressing their condolences on the death of over 2.8 million Romulans, and exploring options of Federation aid to the rebuilding of Romulan society.

 

Kirk was busy with mountains of paper work and persistent calls from Starfleet Command, Starfleet Medical, the diplomatic service, Starfleet Intelligence and Starfleet Operations (who had both just lost their directors and were desperately trying to engage in damage control), and from the Federation Prosecution Service, keen to take the Admiral who was still aboard the Enterprise into custody.

 

Whenever Kirk has a free minute, he went down to sickbay, dreading the words McCoy had unfailingly greeted him with over the past six days: "No change, Jim."

 

***

 

When McCoy had first seen Spock in his cell on Romulus, he had thought his condition could not possibly get any worse. But when, hours later, he had had to inject him with the antiviral designed for Romulans, he had suspected that this was only the beginning of a long painful journey for the Vulcan. 

 

At least it had gotten better before getting so much worse. Aboard the Enterprise, McCoy had finally been able to treat Spock properly, placing the micro shunt to drain his lungs, repairing his broken collarbone and ribs, and treating the burns and cuts obviously inflicted by torture. 

 

The dose of the antiviral McCoy had given Spock on Romulus had stopped the reproduction of the virus, so thanks to McCoy’s treatment, Spock’s lungs were finally clear, he was breathing almost normally and once he woke up, he would still be weak but should not be in any major discomfort. 

 

McCoy had rehydrated his patient, given him nutrients, painkillers, oxygen, and then, finally, one day after his return from the planet, a stimulant because Spock now had a choice to make. _As if he’s not suffered enough_ , McCoy thought as the emptied the hypo spray into Spock’s arm, the captain watching from the foot of Spock’s bed.

 

Spock had opened his eyes slowly and taken in his surrounding before stating, somewhat surprised, “I am on the Enterprise.”

 

“Yes, Spock,” Kirk said gently. “Do you remember what happened?” 

 

Spock’s mind raced. How much did the captain know, what could he safely tell him without betraying Ringer’s orders? Evasively, Spock answered: “I was court-martialled and sentenced to life imprisonment to Poena II…”

 

Kirk, picking up on his friend’s hesitation, interrupted gently: “Don’t worry, Spock, we know you’re not a traitor. Ringer told us all about his plan.”

 

Spock exhaled deeply. “In that case, captain, my last memory is of being imprisoned on Romulus and having contracted a disease that had also affected – and killed – the guard in my cell. I assume it is you, doctor, who has kept me from meeting a similar fate, thank you.” He met McCoy’s eyes, who looked embarrassed.

 

“Don’t thank me, Spock,” McCoy mumbled. “I have not nearly done enough for you. There’s some things you don’t know yet, things that… things that happened that I’m not proud of. I failed you as a doctor and as a friend, I’m sorry Spock.” McCoy cast his eyes down and lapsed into silence.

 

Confused by the doctor’s rambling apology, Spock turned to Kirk, a questioning look on his face. Kirk looked as chastised as the doctor.

 

“Spock, I owe you an apology, too. I should have never believed the whole story about you defecting to the Romulans. It’s just that… I was angry, and there was evidence… and it all went to incredibly fast. I… I’m really sorry, Spock.”

 

“Do not concern yourself, Jim,” Spock aid earnestly. “Your belief that I was a traitor was part of the Admiral’s plan. He anticipated your reaction. It is I who should apologize – I seem to have failed to carry out my orders and I believe this puts the ship and you personally into grave danger.” Spock looked positively apprehensive.

 

McCoy snorted. “Yeah, Ringer anticipated our reactions all right. He played us. I sure hope they sentence _him_ to life on a penal colony.”

 

Spock raised an eyebrow. “Doctor, I believe it is unwise to speak of an Admiral in this manner. In fact, I would advise…”

 

“Ringer’s in the brig Spock,” Kirk interrupted him. “And for good reasons. I guess we better start telling you what’s going on.”

 

“That would be most helpful, captain,” Spock agreed.

 

***

 

The had talked for over an hour, Kirk and McCoy explaining to Spock what had happened in his absence and Spock filling them in on his experiences on Romulus. Even though he was feeling tired and weak, Spock had listened attentively, but when he heard the death toll among the Romulans, for which he was indirectly responsible, he had experienced a sudden ringing in his ears and the room had begun to spin around him.

 

Seeing his friend’s distress, McCoy had gently, but firmly placed his hands on the Vulcans shoulders, who was swaying dangerously, both to steady and comfort him.

 

“This is not your fault, Spock,” Kirk had said gently, watching Spock briefly close his eyes in an attempt to regain his composure.

 

When Spock spoke, his voice was hoarse. “And yet, Jim, I feel responsible. But I also feel grateful, for the millions of lives that were saved – including my own.”

 

McCoy licked his lips nervously. “Spock, you do understand that you’re not cured, right? God, I should have been there when they gave you those ‘vaccines’ and I should have never injected you with the Roumulan antiviral… What I tried to explain earlier was that…”

 

“I am still a carrier of the virus,” Spock interrupted him. “Yes, doctor, I understand. You cannot try a new antiviral now as it won’t mix well with what is already in my system, however, the Roumlan antiviral is not suited to my physiology. However, it is illogical to regret what cannot be changed. What you did on Romulus, you did to save my life. Now, I believe, I have a choice to make, correct doctor?”

 

McCoy nodded, but Kirk looked confused.

 

“A choice, Bones? What kind of choice?”

 

McCoy looked at Spock who nodded imperceptibly. “I can either continue treatment with low doses of the Romulan antiviral. In that case, Spock will remain a carrier, but the treatment would prevent the virus from attacking his body again. The other option…” McCoy hesitated.

 

“The other option,” Spock took over the explanation, “is to increase the dose of Romulan antiviral in an attempt to eradicate the virus completely. However, due to an incompatibility with my physiology, there is the possibility of going into toxic shock. Nevertheless, I choose the latter option.”

 

McCoy gasped. “It could kill you!”

 

Spock nodded. “That is a possibility. However, doctor, I believe we have a duty to ensure that is virus is in fact completely eradicated. Aside from the fact that I would no longer be able to pursue a career in Starfleet, nor ever visit my home planet again while I remain a carrier, the risk of someone attempting what the Admiral planned to do is simply too great. While the virus is alive in my body, I can be instrumentalized as a biological weapon. Therefore, I ask you proceed with treating me with the necessary dose of antiviral. It is only logical.”

 

McCoy had not looked convinced, but Kirk had whispered: “He’s right, Bones. Spock, I wish it was different, but you’re right. You have to do this and we will be there for you. Throughout all of it.”

 

 


	16. Devotion

_Throughout all of it._ That’s what he had said to Spock a week ago, but with all that was going on, he had probably spent about five hours in sickbay in total. Starfleet Command were preparing Truger and Ringer’s trial and were insisting on receiving a full report within three days of the Enterprise leaving Romulus. Kirk was in communication with five different Admirals, one more nervous than the other. They were worried about the impact this scandal would have on the future of the fleet and they were nervous about the Enterprise having to traverse the Neutral Zone with the now disgraced Admiral on board. They kept checking in, demanding tactical reports twice a day and updating Kirk on the diplomats’ negotiations with the Romulans. So Kirk had little time to spare in which he might visit Spock. _Not that Spock is in any condition to receive visitors_ , Kirk thought, feeling guilty nonetheless. McCoy, on the other hand, had practically moved into sickbay.

 

The doctor had grudgingly accepted Spock’s decision to proceed with the treatment necessary to attempt to eradicate the virus from Spock’s system. In addition to the dose of antiviral he had given Spock on Romulus, four more injections would be necessary. But even after injecting Spock with the first of those four doses, which he administered every two hours, McCoy had seriously begun to question his own judgement and actions.

 

Spock had been sitting up in bed, weak and tired, but alert and pain-free. Shortly after the first injection, his body had begun to tremble and his skin had taken on a waxy sheen. Spock was trying hard to control his body’s reactions, but McCoy could tell he was in pain. Kirk had been there, watching the treatment with open apprehension and worry. Just before the second injection was due, Kirk had been called away to take a call from Starfleet Command.

 

“We can wait for him to come back, Spock,” McCoy had said as the intensive care ward's doors shut behind the captain.

 

Spock shook his head, his voice steady. “No, doctor. I believe it is fortunate that the captain was called away. Perhaps it is better he not witness the…next stage.”

 

McCoy swallowed hard and licked his lips. Feeling more like a torturer than a doctor, he administered another hypo. This time, Spock’s reaction was unmistakable. He fell back onto the bed, his body contorting in pain, pulse racing, breathing too fast and shallow. McCoy administered as high a dose of painkillers as he dared but to no avail. The pain indicators on the monitor above the bio-bed remained off the charts and when he met Spock’s eyes he saw a world of pain reflected in his friend’s face. McCoy grabbed Spock’s hand and this was how they remained for the next two hours, each in as much pain as the other.

 

McCoy was just about to administer the third dose of antiviral when Spock’s hand shot up and grabbed his arm, stopping him. For a brief moment, McCoy hoped that Spock had changed his mind, but when the Vulcan began to speak, the doctor realized that he understood perfectly what was to come and wanted to make use of the last lucid moments he had to say something McCoy had never dared hope to hear from his friend.

 

“Leonard,” Spock had begun, his voice strained but clearly audible. “Earlier today you expressed regret as to what transpired with regard to the alleged vaccine and the Romulan antiviral. I wish to convey to you that I bear no, as you humans say, ‘hard feelings’ towards you for either of these occurrences. In fact, I am grateful to you, for having saved my life on Romulus and for attempting to do so again now. I trust your skill and judgement completely and wish that you do not blame yourself should I not survive. I shall always be your friend.”

 

And with that, Spock had gently released his grip on McCoy’s arm and guided the hand holding the hypo to his own jugular, where McCoy obediently released its contents into Spock’s blood, his vision blurred by tears.

 

This dose of the medicine had sent Spock into unconsciousness and after the last dose, two hours later, he had fallen into a coma. _First, do no harm_ , McCoy had thought bitterly as he watched his friend’s still face, the pain indicators as high as ever.

***

 

McCoy was siting on the bio-bed next to Spock’s, reading aloud from a the _Journal of Quantum Mechanics_ , even though it bored him to death and he could hardly keep his eyes open. He had spent the past six days feeling utterly useless. Aside from checking Spock’s vitals and reporting to the captain that there as still no change, he could not do anything to help Spock win the battle that was raging in his body, so he had decided to at least make sure that the Vulcan knew he was not alone.

 

It was an old belief, unproven to this day, that coma patients could subconsciously perceive what was going on around them and especially telepathic species like Vulcans were said to be able to pick up on the feelings of those surrounding them. So McCoy had made a real effort to be positive. He had begun talking to Spock about his days at the academy, telling him anecdotes of mischief, then he had moved on to the time he had fallen in love with his ex-wife and the birth of his daughter, trying to project the happiness he had felt at that time into the room. He had filled hours reminiscing about the adventures he, Spock and Jim had had together and finally, when he had run out of things to say, he had begun to read to Spock, anything he thought the Vulcan might find interesting, even blasted quantum mechanics.

 

But McCoy was finding it harder and harder to stay positive as the days went by and Spock’s condition did not improve. True, he was not getting worse, but this was of little consolation to McCoy who was getting about three hours of sleep at night in his quest to keep the Vulcan in this world by the power of his voice and company alone.

 

Having finished reading a particularly boring journal article to Spock, McCoy finally accepted that he could not go on like this.

 

“Sorry, Spock,” he said as cheerfully as he could, “but I need to get some real shut-eye in my quarters, otherwise I’ll soon start telling you all about the crew’s nicknames for you and that bet they had on who will get away with calling you one of them to your face, and we don’t want that, do we?” He chuckled. “But I’ll open a com link to the bridge for you so you can hear some other voices besides mine. Might be a nice change for a while, huh?”

 

Spock did not respond, but as McCoy was busy explaining to the captain that he would have to keep his First Officer entertained for a while, he missed Spock’s hand, which had lain immobile for six days, tightly grabbing onto a fistful of the thermal blanket covering the Vulcan’s body.

 

 


	17. Extradition

“…so now that we’ve cleared the Neutral Zone, I hope Starfleet Command will dial down the calls, so that I can get some actual work done.”

 

Kirk was doing a summary of the past days and a running commentary of ship’s business for Spock. _Like the longest, most informal log entry ever_ , he thought. The bridge crew had been delighted to relieve McCoy in talking to Spock and unperturbed by the lack of response from the other end of the com link, had each enthusiastically greeted the First Officer before Kirk had launched into his long monologue.

 

“You won’t believe the materials they want as evidence for the trial,” Kirk continued. “They even requested…”

 

“Captain!” Sulu interrupted him suddenly. “Bird of Prey decloaking, starboard side!”

 

Kirk’s mind raced. They were already deep inside Federation space. What did this mean?

 

“Open hailing frequencies,” Kirk said, his voice calmer than he felt.

 

“They are hailing us, captain,” Uhura reported from her station.

 

“On screen, lieutenant.”

 

“Kirk.” The Roumlan staring at them menacingly from the view screen looked familiar to Kirk, but he could not quite remember where he might have seen him before.

 

“I am Commander Talak and I represent those who seek justice for the Federation crimes committed on Romulus. You have two enemies of the Romulan Empire aboard your ship. You will extradite your them to us, or we will destroy your ship. You have ten minutes to comply with my demand before we start shooting. And believe me, Kirk, thanks to that half-blood traitor, all Romulan ships know where to hit you by now.”

 

Kirk sat stunned. Only an hour ago, Starfleet Command has ensured him that the Romulans would not seek extradition of Ringer and Truger. However, they had also warned him that the relationship with the Romulans was fragile, so Kirk decided to ignore the fact that the Romulan ship had intruded into Federation space and to try to deescalate the situation.

 

“Commander Talak,” Kirk responded as politely as he could. “I have orders to transfer Admiral Ringer to Earth, where we will be tried for his crimes under Federation law. The other accused is not aboard my vessel.”

 

“I don’t care about your orders, Kirk” the Romulan spat. “I want Ringer now! And I’m not talking about the other Admiral, I know you don’t have him. I want that Vulcan scum who brought this disease to my planet and who killed my brother!”

 

Kirk’s stomach dropped. _Spock. He wants Spock. No, never_.

 

“Commander,” Kirk tried to swallow his panic, “my First Officer does not stand accused of any crime. He was a victim of the Admirals’ plan. I’m sorry that you lost your brother in this terrible atrocity, but I cannot comply with your demands.”

 

“ _He killed_ my brother, my _twin_ brother!” Talak exploded. “Tulak was the one who was questioning the Vulcan and now he is dead. I want that Vulcan’s head, if it’s the last thing I do!”

 

Kirk felt all the blood drain from his face. He suddenly remembered where he had seen this Romulan’s face before. He was the spitting image of the dead Romulan they had found in Spock’s cell. The guard who had tortured Spock. Suddenly, Kirk’s sense of diplomacy was gone and replaced with white-hot rage.

 

“Your brother _tortured_ him,” Kirk shouted. “Tulak deserved what happened to him.”

 

It was the wrong thing to say and Kirk knew it as soon as the words had left his mouth. The Roumulan’s face contorted into a mask of pure hatred.

 

“I will destroy you, Kirk,” he whispered from behind clenched teeth. And you will not defend yourselves. Another Romulan life lost at the hands of the Federation and you will have intergalactic war on your hands – and you know it!”

 

With that, the Romulans cut communications and before Kirk had time to react, they were hit by a round of phaser fire that sent the Enterprise shaking. _He is right_ , Kirk thought despairingly, _I can’t give orders to shoot_. _My inability to control myself is going to cost every man and woman aboard this ship their lives_.

 

*** 

 

McCoy awoke with a start. _Phaser fire_ , he thought, wondering at the back of his mind when he had become so familiar with the sensation that he could recognize it in his sleep. He was on his feet in seconds and out the door on his way to sickbay.

 

When he entered the intensive care ward his stomach dropped. Spock’s bed was empty, the thermal blanket lying crumbled on the floor. Dazed, he held on to Spock’s empty bed as another round of fire shook the ship, sending medical equipment tumbling to the floor. Over the still open com link to the bridge, McCoy could hear Sulu’s panicked voice.

 

“Captain, we’re losing shield capacity. Shields at twenty percent” – another hit – “ten percent now – Captain, shields are gone!”

 

“Captain,” Uhura shouted over the mayhem, “the Romulan ship is hailing us again!”

 

“On screen, Lieutenant!”

 

“One last chance, Captain,” a voice unfamiliar to McCoy roared. “Give me the criminals now or prepare to be destroyed!”

 

And then, an all to familiar voice joined the conversation, sending a jolt of joy through McCoy, only to plunge him into a panic seconds later.

 

“This is Commander Spock, calling the Romulan vessel from the transporter room of the Enterprise.” Spock’s voiced sounded strained but calm. “I am prepared to beam aboard your vessel, on the condition that you forego your demand that Admiral Ringer join me and that you will not harm this ship.”

 

A moment of stunned silence followed at all ends, then the unknown voice answered: “I accept your terms, Vulcan,” and Kirk’s voice cut in screaming: “Spock, no!”

 

McCoy felt as though he had been punched in the gut. Gathering his wits, he left sickbay and set off at a running pace towards the bridge.

 

 


	18. Extrication

McCoy arrived on the bridge just in time to see Spock being dragged before the Romulan Commander who was grinning triumphantly as a guard forced the Enterprise’s Fist Officer to his knees. Spock looked terrible. His body painfully thin, cheeks sunken, a persistent cough shaking his body.

 

McCoy’s heart dropped at the sight of his patient and friend. _He should not be having this cough again_ , he thought despairingly. This could only mean one thing: the antiviral treatment had been ineffective.

 

Talak circled his prey menacingly, then raised his hand and struck Spock into the face with full force, McCoy and the bridge crew watching in mesmerized horror. When Spock raised his head again and coughed, green blood was beginning to drip down his chin, but when he addressed his captor, his words were clearly audible.

 

“I am sorry for the loss of your brother,” he said earnestly. “I can see the family resemblance in your… methods of communication,” Spock continued, “and I am sorry that having made my acquaintance will prove as unpleasant to you as it did to him.”

 

“Don’t you dare speak of my brother, Vulcan scum,” Talak hissed, striking Spock a second time and sending him sprawling on the floor. Slowly, Spock tried to sit up, his body wrecked by coughing.

 

Suddenly, the Romulan’s eyes grew wide, suspicion clearly visible on his features. At the same moment, Kirk caught the look in Spock’s eyes and understood what was happening, a faint spark of hope igniting within him.

 

“You still have it,” Talak whispered, almost inaudibly as he eyed Spock’s shaking body and the blood on his chin. The Romulan rounded on Kirk, addressing him directly over the view screen. “Kirk, you tricked me! You sent your Vulcan over here to finish what your Admirals started. When this gets back to Romulus, diplomatic negotiations are finished. This means war, you hear me?”

 

Kirk put on his most innocent face. “If I recall correctly, Commander Talak – and I believe the log will show this also – it was you who insisted on Commander Spock beaming over to your ship. You blackmailed us and he volunteered to transport aboard to avert the destruction of the Enterprise.”

 

Talak was fuming, but Kirk continued unperturbed. “You are more than two days away from Romulus at maximum speed, so you will not reach it in time to obtain a cure for the virus that is now spreading aboard your ship. Nor will you be able to obtain the formula to synthesize it yourself. This formula remains in the Federation’s hands. Therefore, I think, Commander, that we are now your only hope for survival,” Kirk finished smugly.

 

Talak glared at him. “What do you want?” he spat.

 

“I want to help you, Commander,” Kirk said nonchalantly. “How about this: you return my First Officer and in exchange, we provide you with the antiviral and vaccines you need to survive. Then, I think, you should make your way back into Romulan space and we will forget this little incident in the spirit of the ongoing diplomatic negotiations.”

 

Kirk held the Romulan’s hate-filled gaze and finally, Talak spat out one single word: “Fine.”

 

***

 

Ten minutes later, Kirk and McCoy found themselves in the transporter room, anxiously waiting to see whether the Romulans would hold up their end of the bargain. They had agreed to a simultaneous transport, so as soon as the medical supplies McCoy had prepared disappeared off the transporter platform, Spock materialized and promptly collapsed on the floor.

 

Kirk and McCoy were at his side in an instant, the doctor waving his medical scanner over his friend’s unconscious form. “Jim,” McCoy said in amazement. “He’s fine! – I mean, he’s not fine, obviously… he is suffering from exhaustion and a mild concussion, but he doesn’t have it! The virus, his system is clear… Jim, I don’t understand.”

 

Kirk grinned and for the first time in weeks he felt true relief. “Well, Bones, I guess Spock didn’t just trick the Romulans, he tricked you too, huh? We should probably let them know they won’t be needing those antivirals – the vaccines can’t hurt them, I guess.”

 

McCoy looked at him with utter disbelief. “You knew?”

 

“I suspected… I _hoped_ ,” Kirk admitted, looking fondly at Spock’s still face.

 

“Let’s get him to sickbay, Bones. I have a feeling you’re gonna keep him there for a long time just for that scare he gave you just know.”

 

“You bet I will, Jim. Green-blooded hobgoblin.” McCoy grinned with genuine happiness and together they lifted Spock up, supporting him between the two of them.

 

*** 

 

“What would you have done had Talak not hit you, Spock? The blood in your mouth came from his blow and your little charade would not have been very effective without it.” McCoy was making conversation as he examined Spock who had regained consciousness two days ago and, despite what McCoy had said to Kirk, was allowed to recover in his own quarters.

 

“Seeing as he is Tulak's twin brother,” Spock said dryly, “I was quite certain that I would only need to slightly provoke him to elicit violence. However, had he responded differently, I simply would have bit my own lip.”

 

“But how did you know they were not just going to beam you out into space?” McCoy continued, genuinely curious.

 

“A calculated risk, doctor. I anticipated the captain would intervene and negotiate the terms of my release. I anticipated correctly.”

 

Kirk, who was perched at the edge of Sock’s bed smiled briefly before his face turned serious again.

 

But why did you go in the first place?”, he asked. “Bones is right, they could have done anything to you.”

 

“Jim, I had to make certain I would not be responsible for any further loss of life. There is a Vulcan saying: “The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few – or the one.”

 

“Sounds like bullshit to me,” McCoy interjected.

 

Spock raised an eyebrow. “Doctor, I will be more than happy to discuss Vulcan moral philosophy with you. Perhaps you would be amenable to a six-day monologue on my part while you listen without interrupting?”, Spock teased.

 

McCoy coloured visibly. “So you heard me all the time you were unconscious?”

 

“I did hear you, doctor, but clearly so only for 5.7 hours before the time I regained consciousness. However, Nurse Chapel told me of your efforts. I thank you.”

 

“You’re really becoming a little too good at lying, Spock, you know that?” McCoy grumbled to hide how touched he was by the Vulcan thanking him.

 

“I believe I have learned a great deal about deceit from Admiral Ringer,” Spock mused.

 

“By the way,” Kirk supplied. “We’re all required as witnesses at the trial in two weeks. Since it’s on Earth, how about the three of us go for shore leave together afterwards?”

 

“Good idea, Jim. Spock definitely needs some rest and that way I’ll be able to keep an eye on him. Spock, what do you think?”

 

“As long as you limit your medical examinations to the absolute minimum number necessary, doctor, I agree to the captain’s plan.”

 

McCoy harrumphed, Spock raised an eyebrow and Kirk smiled widely. They were going to have a great time.

 

 


	19. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I used a phrase and an idea here which I stole from Sherlock. If anyone asks, it's a reference of course ;)

Kirk supressed a yawn. They had been charting a star system in the Beta quadrant for the past two weeks and he was bored out of his mind. Their shore leave on Earth had been three months ago and he was definitely ready for another break. On the bright side, they were set to rendezvous with a shuttle later today, which would bring McCoy back to the Enterprise from a Conference on Xeno-immunology, where he had presented a paper on the antiviral developed during the crisis on Romulus.

 

His mind drifted back to the aftermath of that crisis and to the trial of Truger and Ringer. They had presented themselves as warriors in the fight for intergalactic peace, intransigent in their insistence that all they had done had been for the good of the Federation and its people. When the court had called Spock as a witness, he had had to face them in the courtroom, but neither one of them had given him as much as a glance, much less an apology.

 

Now they were both serving life sentences on Poena II, the very place Kirk had once thought Spock would have to spend the rest of his days. But Spock was here on the bridge with him, fully recovered, bent over his scanner at the Science station, unfazed by the tediousness of their assignment.   

 

Kirk stepped over to Spock’s station, touching him lightly on the arm. “Dinner in my quarters later, Spock?” he asked. “McCoy will be back tonight and I thought you might like to hear about what he learned at the conference.”

 

Spock bowed his head. “That would be most welcome, captain.”

 

***

 

Half an hour before Spock and McCoy were due to meet him for dinner, a message from Starfleet Intelligence popped up in Kirk’s mailbox.

 

_Dear Captain Kirk,_

_In the interest of maintaining transparency in the process of restructuring Starfleet’s Intelligence Services, I am sending you the attached encrypted file before deleting it and all of its contents from our databases._

_The file in question contains information on your person collected by the former director of Starfleet Intelligence Robert Truger and was discovered during the investigation into Mr Truger’s involvement in the conspiracy to exterminate the Romulan race._

_You may choose to view the information contained in said file or to delete it unopened._

_I wish to personally apologise for any distress the actions of our former director have caused you._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Commodore Leyla Adim_

_Director of Starfleet Intelligence, ad interim_

 

 

 

Kirk sat stunned for a minute. Then he opened the file and began to read.

 

***

 

Kirk was still reading when his door chime sounded and as he looked up from the screen, deeply disturbed, he discovered that Spock and McCoy’s expressions mirrored his own. They were both carrying data pads, each containing their own message from Commodore Adim and their own files from Truger’s investigation.

 

Truger had collected an astounding amount of information on each of them. Personal and professional background, relationships, preferences and antipathies, medical records, psych evaluations…the list went on.

 

The most disturbing part, however, was the synthesis at the end of each of their files, detailing their weaknesses and “pressure points”.

 

Listen to this, McCoy drawled angrily over his second glass of brandy – somehow none of them had had any appetite for food after seeing the contents of the files, but had all opted for a liquid dinner.

 

“The separation from his ex-wife has left McCoy deeply afraid of rejection. He easily picks up on behavioural changes that might indicate an imminent betrayal. If such a betrayal is discovered, McCoy reacts with intense anger and ostracism. – That’s not even true,” McCoy mumbled.

 

“You think so, Bones?” Kirk asked softly. “Mine is all true… Truger knew us better than we knew each other and so he was able to use this knowledge against us.”

 

“Are you suggesting none of this would have happened if only we had had the guts to bare our souls to one another?” McCoy asked incredulously.

 

“Perhaps not, doctor”, Spock spoke up thoughtfully, his fingers steepled in contemplation. “However, since a third party, albeit without my consent, has put into writing what I admit I’m having difficulty putting into words, I would like to offer both of you the opportunity to read my file – in order to ‘bare my soul’ as you put it, doctor.”

 

McCoy’s eyes widened and Kirk asked carefully: “Are you sure, Spock? This is pretty personal stuff.”

 

“Precisely, Jim. However, I believe it can only benefit our…friendship and strengthen us against any future attempts to play us against one another.”

 

“You’re right,” Kirk said after contemplating this for a moment. “I want you and Bones to read mine, too.”

 

They both looked at McCoy. “This may be the brandy talking, but I guess you know most of the stuff in mine already. So be my guest,” the doctor said, passing his pad to Spock, who passed his own to Kirk, while Kirk passed his to McCoy.

 

After they had finished reading each other’s files, they sat in silence for some time.

 

Finally, McCoy spoke up. “Remember that day in the briefing room, Jim, when you confronted Spock and I exploded, and Spock just took all of it? That’s when Ringer had us right where he wanted us. Spock obeying orders, trying to protect us, you playing the strong captain to defend your ship, and me – me wanting to mediate between the two of you but my anger ultimately getting the better of me.” McCoy paused. “And remember how Ringer said we had a traitor in our own ranks? We did, of course, but it wasn’t you, Spock, it was him. So what we just did, allowing the others to understand all that personal stuff about us… I think we made sure we’ll never believe any falsehoods about any of us ever again.”

 

“My thoughts precisely, doctor,” Spock concurred, his eyes warm.

 

“And mine, Bones,” Kirk added. “We may never again quite feel the same trust in Starfleet’s hierarchy, in the ranks above us giving orders and influencing us, but I feel pretty good about the trust between the three of us – in _our_ own ranks.”

 

They exchanged appreciative looks, sipping their drinks in comfortable silence.

 

 


End file.
